While You Were Sleeping
by skygirl55
Summary: NYPD Officer Kate Beckett had no idea the simple act of saving a man's life could affect her life in such profound ways. Then again, that might be what happens when you save your favorite mystery writer...(Caskett AU - Inspired by the movie of the same name)
1. Chapter 1

_A/N: This story is inspired by the movie "While You Were Sleeping"_

 _A few months ago, Castlefanfics on Tumblr posted a prompt about turning popular rom-coms into Caskett AU stories. "While You Were Sleeping" is one of my favorite rom-coms of all time. It's from the early 90's so probably not everyone has seen it, but I highly recommend that you do._

 _There are 24 chapters and an epilogue. I will post chapters on my usual days: Saturday & Wednesday._

 _Thanks to **Lord of Kavaka** for the cover art!_

* * *

 **Chapter One**

Hurrying across the walkway on Lafayette Street, Kate Beckett involuntarily shivered. Just over two years on the job and she still lacked the proper skills to dress appropriately for days with damp, bitter cold. At least it wasn't windy. An icy whipping wind would have quickly turned her into a police officer shaped icicle. Fortunately, the air was calm—damp, but calm.

Kate stuffed her hands further down into the pockets of her NYPD issue jacket and increased her pace toward the nearest subway entrance where, hopefully, it would be several degrees warmer. As she continued on her way, she was forced to pull one hand from its cozy resting spot and brush from her line of vision a strand of hair covered in crystalized ice particles.

As the air temperature plummeted towards the mid-teens, Kate was surprised to see many smiling faces passing by her on the streets. People laughed and joked as they went about their mornings. A few huddled together under umbrellas. The rest appeared as though they'd been on the receiving end of a powdered sugar explosion. Still, none of them seemed to mind; the holidays did have a funny way of lifting people's moods.

For Kate Beckett, Christmas Eve was just another day to get through. Her plans that day did not differ largely from any other: get up, go to work, finish her shift, return to her apartment, pull a pre-made meal from her freezer and eat while reading on her couch. There would be no tree trimming, no carol singing, and most certainly no exchanging of presents.

She didn't mind, really. For the entire month of December Kate listened to the majority of her male coworkers lament about buying presents. Then, somewhere around the twentieth of the month, panic set in and suddenly they were all coming to her for suggestions or advice. Doling out a few ideas, she could handle (and she didn't have a problem telling them to take their troubles elsewhere on the days she felt no need to be a personal shopper), but the actual shopping? That was best left to others. Plus, it was one less form of stress in her life and who didn't need less stress?

With the subway entrance in sight, Kate let out an exhale of relief. She hurried through the cloud her breath caused and descended into the warmth. The subway was certainly far from the most glamorous place in the city, particularly with its noxious-at-times smells (thankfully the winter chill did keep offending scents at a tolerable level) but Kate welcomed the break from the piercing cold.

Considering she was still technically on duty and meant to be patrolling the streets for those keen on taking advantage of the lucrative holiday atmosphere, Kate knew she could not spend too much time below ground. She just needed a few minutes until her toes warmed from completely frozen to almost thawed; then back out into the streets she would go.

As the youthful cop was as smart as she was savvy, she knew exactly how to time the breaks on her route and exactly which subway stop to take them in. It helped that her beat hadn't changed since the fall. When it did change—as it inevitably would—she wasn't sure what she'd do, but she did not need to worry about that on Christmas Eve morning. Instead, her only concern was that due to the holiday his schedule would be off and she would miss him. As he was the thing she looked forward to most that holiday, such an occurrence would bring her great disappointment.

Marching in place to alleviate the tingling in her thawing toes, Kate glanced at the time on her cell phone. The subway train would be arriving in less than two minutes (assuming it was on time). He always did cut it close. Thirty seconds ticked by and for one saddening moment she thought he might not be riding the train that day. Then, suddenly, he appeared.

The first time she spotted Nick Rodgers in the flesh had been four months earlier when he—quite literally—ran into her. She was boarding a train he was exiting. In the hustle and bustle of people, he'd been knocked into her. He mumbled a, "Sorry officer," and continued on his way. At the time, she'd mused, "That guy looked a lot like Nick Rodgers," but thought nothing more of it. After all, what were the odds of her running into her favorite mystery writer on a subway train in southern Manhattan?

Of course she knew that Nick Rodgers lived in Manhattan (she could not rightfully call herself a _huge fan_ unless she knew such a basic fact), but so did millions of other people. Just because Donald Trump lived in Manhattan didn't mean she bumped into him on a regular basis (or, ever, as it happened).

A week later, however, she spotted the man—or, as she believed at the time, the man who was his doppelganger—again. That time, she forced herself to stop and look a bit closer. It was then she decided if that man was not Nick Rodgers, he most certainly had a twin.

Though as a sworn officer of the NYPD Kate knew stalking was a crime, she could not help herself from switching up her route that next week so she hit the subway station on Lafayette at the exact same time, thus enabling her to see the mystery writer look-alike twice more. By the fourth time she saw him, she was certain. Nick Rodgers took the Lafayette subway several mornings a week.

Perhaps, she mused as she watched him graciously descend the opposite staircase, it was her own version of a Christmas miracle—seeing him that morning. There he was, in his usual glory: fashion-model good looks with a thick mop of dark brown hair atop his head, parted in the middle and flopping to either side. Piercing blue eyes beneath a heavy brow, full pink lips and a square jaw. His physique was lanky, making him appear taller than he actually was, but she liked that; she liked tall men as they were the only ones who stood above her five-foot-nine frame.

When he hit the bottom step, Nick adjusted the brown leather messenger bag over his shoulder and Kate felt a tingle travel down her spine. His hands—she loved his hands. The long fingers that crafted almost a dozen novels, each of them speaking directly to her soul. Giving her answers to questions the outside world had refused.

As she was intently focused on memorizing every square inch of Nick's face (per usual), Kate failed to notice the two suspicious looking men trailing several feet behind him. If she had, her cop instincts probably would have kicked in. The men, while not suspicions in their own right with their puffy overcoats and black knit caps pulled down low over their brows, walked tightly together as though they were whispering, plotting. Their eyes alternated focus on Nick and the surrounding area.

With her position concealed partially behind a cinder block column (she didn't want to be _too_ obvious while ogling the author), the up-to-no-good duo failed to see her. Instead, what they saw was an empty train platform and an opportunity.

"Hey yo slick," one said, his voice reverberating against the smooth subway platform surfaces.

"Yeah, yeah how you doin' pretty boy," said the other.

"Whatchu got under that nice fancy coat. How 'bout a wallet or somethin'"

Kate realized a mugging was about to occur just a few seconds too late. She popped out from behind the column just in time to see both would-be robbers simultaneously grabbing for the writer's jacket. Instinctively, he stepped back, only he failed to realize he was already at the edge of the train platform. His foot having no safe place to land, he tumbled backwards over the edge of the platform, his arms flailing out to the sides; a scream lost to the echoing noise of an oncoming train.

"Oh god!" Kate proclaimed, rushing forward as the two assailants fled up the stairs they descended moments earlier. She sprinted to the spot where he fell as the squeal of train wheels against track grew to a near deafening decibel. When she was close enough, she peered over the edge of the track and let out another gasp.

Crumpled in between the nearest set of subway rails, Nick Rodgers lay motionless. His messenger bag had been tossed to the side, his arms lay at awkward angles to his torso, and one leg was half-bent over the nearest rail. A fresh onslaught of horror coursing through her body, Kate glanced between the injured man, the oncoming train, and then back. Without a second though, she leapt down from the subway platform.

"Sir? Sir? Can you hear me, sir?" she called out, but the man was out cold; he could not hear her.

A blasting whistle from the oncoming train fueled Kate into action. She needed to get the man off the tracks, but how? He probably outweighed her by sixty or seventy pounds at least and he would be absolutely dead weight. She had only seconds before the oncoming subway car killed them both.

Though she wasn't quite sure what made her think of it, she covered his body with hers, wrapped her arms and legs around him as best she could, and rolled them both towards the space between the subway rails and the platform. Though this action caused her great agony as her shoulder and elbow rolled over the rail itself, the move worked.

Just as the subway car sped past them, she locked them both safely in the tight nook between the platform and rail edge. Debris, tiny stones, and no small amount of subway grime covered them as the train whipped past. She coughed and spluttered, but felt no pain. Somehow, she'd saved them both from certain death by using a move that was bound to fail more often than not.

When the subway car came to a full stop, Kate released her death-grip on the author and reached for the walkie-talkie clipped to her shoulder. She cleared her throat before pressing down the transmitter button. "This is Officer Kate Beckett requesting immediate assistance. Backup needed and please send an ambulance."

* * *

 _A/N #2 - Those of you familiar with the movie probably know where this is going – or at least have a clue. For those of you that aren't, let me see if I can answer some questions:_

 _-You have a typo—you wrote Nick not Rick._

 _No, that is not a typo. Nick Rodgers is the writer in this story. (Also, bonus points to you if you can guess why I named him Nick and how that pays homage to Castle (the show))_

 _-But, but, but! Rick Castle is supposed to be the writer! Where is he?_

 _Patience, Grasshopper. You will see him soon._

 _-I don't know about this story…_

 _That's okay, you don't have to love it right now (or at all) but I promise this is a Caskett story, just an AU one J_


	2. Chapter 2

_A/N: Thank you so much for all your reviews & follows - I really appreciate them! I'm so glad everyone is excited for this story!_

* * *

 **Chapter Two**

Rick Rodgers let out a deep sigh and allowed his head to loll back against the pillow cushioning his cranium from the hard wooden headboard against which he sat. His gaze drifted towards the window. The view of the Hampton Inn parking lot was certainly nothing impressive, though it did allow him to take note that yep, it was still snowing. Michigan in December tended to be that way.

When he agreed to the pre-Christmas trip, he'd thought briefly about having a weather issue, but then decided it would be fine. This area of the country got snow _all the time_ and yet planes still flew in and out. He figured the airport crews would be particularly diligent knowing how busy holiday travel could be—and they were…they just weren't expecting _this_ much snow. And the wind—the wind was a problem.

With another sigh, he turned his head back towards the television screen, and pressed the channel up button on the remote. It would be fine. The snow was supposed to end by that evening, meaning he could get out as early as Christmas day in the afternoon. At the latest, he'd fly out the day after Christmas. His mother promised they'd postpone their holiday until he arrived, so he wouldn't miss anything (though, given how things were between all of them, maybe missing the festivities was the preferable option.) Still, he was annoyed. And bored. Very bored.

Just as he was contemplating ordering a pay-per-view movie, his cell phone rang. He gazed at it curiously and, seeing his mother's photo on the display, decided to answer. "Merry day before Christmas, Mother. Wait—what? What?" He sat up straight, his heart thudding a bit quicker in his chest. "Mother, slow down. What happened to Nick?"

* * *

Kate Beckett scurried through the emergency room doors at Beth Israel Medical Center and nearly ran full-speed into a man on crutches with a fresh bandage wrapped around his foot and ankle. She muttered out an apology and slowed her pace to a hurried walk. She had not had a chance to change out of her uniform and thus she needed to ensure her behavior was particularly respectful and cop-like lest her badge number be reported to her captain.

Four hours earlier the young officer had resolved herself to having a boring, uneventful Christmas Eve. Then, she'd witnessed the near murder of one of the most famous mystery writers in the country—not to mention one of her favorite humans on the planet—and her day had changed significantly. She only hoped her visit to the hospital would continue the day in a positive direction.

Using the uniform she wore to her advantage, Kate cut to the front of the line of individuals inquiring at the reception desk. (Okay, maybe there was a reason why she had not made a greater effort to change out of her blues at the end of her shift.) "Excuse me, I'm looking for a man who was brought in earlier from the Lafayette subway station."

The middle-aged woman behind the desk eyed her, irritated. She clicked her much-too-long bright pink fingernails against her computer mouse for several moments before nodding. "They're keeping him in the ICU while doing tests. It's-"

"I know where it is," she responded. All too well, as it happened.

Kate thanked the woman, flashed a polite smile and then hurried off in the direction of the elevator. She reached the door at the same time as a mother with two young daughters Kate estimated to be around six and eight. She smiled at them, held the door open, and joined them just before the doors began to close.

Kate stood with her hands clasped in front of her as they rode. Though she was not purposely trying to eavesdrop, it was impossible not to hear the bubbly conversation going on beside her. As it turned out, the family was there to visit a sick grandmother forced to spend the holiday in the hospital. The mother was coaching the girls on what to and what not to say. While this was amusing, Kate could not help but feel the slightest twinge of sadness in her gut as she listened.

She didn't hate Christmas—truly. There was absolutely nothing wrong with the holiday in her opinion. In fact, she enjoyed it quite thoroughly during her youth (what child didn't?), but in the prior few years the holiday had definitely lost its luster for her. There was time she could hardly stand to walk past decorations or hear Christmas music, but that pain had faded to a muted ache.

Though her apartment had no decorations, she didn't mind seeing them at the precinct or in other's homes. She'd even resumed her annual pilgrimage to the Rockefeller Center tree, but hearing families talk about Christmas or rejoice over their plans—that still hurt more than she cared to admit.

When the elevator stopped, Kate stepped quickly out onto the appropriate floor and headed towards the ICU. Turning the corner leading to the appropriate wing, Kate noted a hospital security guard standing against the wall. Her brow knitted curiously.

Though the suspects had yet to be caught, the likelihood of Nick Rodgers' attackers returning to finish him off (so to speak) was so remote it was practically nonexistent. Thus, she could hardly imagine the hospital posting a guard near the ICU wing for him—especially without the NYPD sanctioning it, which they had not. Thus, he must have been there for another reason.

Only when she was within a few dozen feet of the man did Kate realize why he was standing there. For the first time since that morning, she let out a light laugh at the sight of her former coworker. "What are you doing here?"

Miles Johnson turned to the young officer with a smile. "Little birdie told me you saved your future husband today and I had to come congratulate you."

Kate laughed again at his future husband comment. Okay, so she had mentioned her love of Nick's books once…twice…dozens of times—there was no crime in that! "Future husband…right."

Miles winked at her. "Seriously…hell of a thing you did."

"Just doin' my job," she admitted. Truly, if she had thought about it, she probably would not have leapt down onto the subway tracks were nothing but dangers abounded. But sometimes being a good cop meant not thinking—Miles had taught her that.

For over thirty years he was an officer with the NYPD. He'd retired nine months earlier and his retirement lasted for all of sixty days before he decided he needed something to pass the time; that's when he got the security gig at Beth Israel. As she had (thankfully) not had much opportunity to visit the hospital in that time Kate had not seen him since his visit to the precinct six months earlier when he bragged about his new, cushy position.

"Yeah, well, maybe you should go give lover boy a kiss, eh?" Miles told her with a wink. "Might wake him up."

Kate laughed at the reference and walked past him into the ICU, thinking nothing more of it. Only when she inquired at the desk on the patient's prognosis did she realize Miles had not been joking at all. Nick Rodgers had yet to regain consciousness after his accident.

Though momentarily saddened, Kate reminded herself by saying it had only been a few hours. While being unconscious was certainly not great news, after such a short amount of time, it was hardly a death sentence either.

Thanking the nurse with a nod, Kate walked to the private room in which Nick rested. She wasn't paying much attention to her surroundings until she stepped inside and found herself face to face with four very distraught looking faces. Frozen in the doorway, she took each of them in.

From left to right she spotted first an older man, in his late-fifties at least, with salt-and-pepper hair and a strong jaw eerily similar to that of the writer's. Next, a woman approximately the same age with fire-red hair and piercing blue eyes. Beside her stood an even older woman with a wrinkled face peppered with freckles and age spots. She leaned heavily on a cane with one hand and the edge of the hospital bed with another. Finally, on the far right, a dark skinned woman stood dressed in blue hospital scrubs with a hospital badge clipped to the pocket on her shirt. Though she looked like a Beth Israel nurse, Kate deduced from the tears in the woman's eyes that she was not an ICU nurse, but somehow related to the family.

"H-hi," Kate said dumbly as the four pairs of eyes gazed at her.

The man she presumed to be Nick's father stepped forward first. "Did you find them? Did you find the men who did this to my boy?"

Kate shook her head simply. "I'm sorry, sir; not yet, but we are looking."

"Are you here to take our statements then? Do we give statements?" the red-haired woman assumed to be the writer's mother asked.

The young officer shook her head. "No, I was the first officer on scene. I witnessed the attack, actually and I jumped onto the tracks to-"

"Oh my god, you saved him _and_ you're his fiancée!" said a voice from behind her.

Kate whipped around and found herself facing a blonde woman approximately the size of an average middle school child. Despite having larger-than-average hazel eyes, everything about her was petite from her nose all the way down to her feet. She dressed in scrubs and had a stethoscope draped around her neck. Still confused by the sentence she had just heard, Kate asked, "What?"

"You saved him, right?"

"Yes…"

The young nurse let out a happy giggle. "Saved your own fiancé! That's like a fairytale!"

"But-"

Before Kate could utter a rebuttal, she was interrupted by the eldest woman in the room speaking in a frail tone. "Nicholas has a fiancée? Nicholas is engaged?"

"I don't think so, Mother," the orange-haired woman said.

"But that woman—she said—that woman she said—oh…oh!" The frail woman pulled her hand from the bed and clutched it to her chest. She hunched over and her chest began to heave.

Seeing this, the tearful nurse sprang into action. "Here Clara, sit down. That's it, take it easy."

"Dear god…oh, oh I'm sorry," the flustered red-haired woman apologized first to the blonde nurse and then to Kate. "My mother has a heart condition and-"

"Does she need anything?" the blonde nurse asked quickly.

The red-head rummaged through her purse. "Some water please—she needs to take her pills."

The blonde disappeared and returned seconds later with a plastic cup of water, which she passed to the elderly woman in the chair by the bed. The woman's daughter passed over a pill and the elder woman gulped it down before passing the cup back with a trembling hand. Once she'd swallowed the pill, her stare drilled into Kate. "You-you're engaged to my grandson?"

"Uhh," Kate began, her heart racing in her chest. She looked between the grinning nurse and the four very confused family members before saying the only thing that came to her mind: "Okay?"


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three**

Frozen. She was frozen. What the hell was going on? All she wanted to do was find out the status of Nick Rodgers injuries and now…they were engaged?!

"I, um, I…" Kate stammered, though no coherent thoughts left her mind.

"Oh dear, I'm so sorry," the red-haired woman said, stepping forward and pulling Kate into a motherly hug. "We had no idea. I mean…Nick said he had something to tell us over Christmas, but this! Well," she paused and looked back at her husband, "We never…you didn't?"

"No, I had no idea," the flabbergasted man shook his head. "Why wouldn't he tell us? This isn't the sort of thing you should hide from your family!"

Guilt clawed at Kate's gut. Great! Now she'd gotten the writer in trouble for something he hadn't done. "Oh, no, it's not like that. It's just-"

"Oh we're not blaming you, dear," the red-headed woman said, patting Kate's arm. "Of course it's not your fault—not at all!"

"I-I just wanted to see if he…if he…" Kate stammered out. Asking to see a man she barely knew didn't exactly feel right and using her uniform to achieve the goal felt worse, but as long as they thought she was his fiancée… "How—how is Nick doing?"

"Well I'm afraid they won't tell us much of anything. Tests—they're running tests," Nick's mother explained. "That's the best they'll tell us."

Kate nodded and gave the woman a half smile.

"What—what's your name girl?" the still frail, but stronger sounding woman seated at the end of the bed asked.

"Kate. Officer Kate Beckett," she said, gazing around to each of the family members.

"Kate," Nick's father nodded and extended his hand. "Nice to meet you. I assume you know who we are."

Shit! Shit! She was so screwed. God, this was a mess. She took two backwards steps towards the room exit and laughed nervously. "Nick's…parents?"

His father's face fell. "You mean he didn't…why…what is wrong with that boy!" his father hissed, gazing down at the man lying in the bed behind them.

"Oh Chet don't—not now. I'm sure Nick has a perfectly reasonable explanation for all of this, which he will tell us when he wakes up," the writer's mother assured them. Then, she stepped forwards to do the introductions. "This is Nick's father, Chet Palaburn. I'm Martha. This is my mother Clara Rodgers and this is Nick's sister, Lanie."

"Adopted sister," Lanie clarified as she mopped her cheeks with a tissue.

Kate let out a breathy laugh in return. Given her clearly different ethnicity, Kate had presumed exactly that, but was glad to have confirmation. "Nice to meet you all; I wish it was under better circumstances. I…oh," her voice turned sad when Nick's father stepped aside and she was able to see Nick's face for the first time since entering the hospital room.

On the subway tracks, Kate had been so occupied with ensuring that neither of them perished from the train's unforgiving metal wheels that she had not properly taken in Nick's injuries. She never noticed a head wound, but as he lie in the hospital bed, the writer's head was well-wrapped in a clean white bandage. Peeking out below it, just above his eyebrow, a large area was beginning to turn purple. Other than that, he just seemed so…small.

"Don't worry, dear; he's going to pull through this—he's a fighter," Martha assured her, putting an arm around her back, but for Kate it was suddenly all too much. She couldn't breathe, she needed an out.

"I'm sorry…I…I just…" Without even finishing her thought, she hurried out into the hall and walked until she ran into the nurses' station, fortunately out of view of the Rodgers-Palaburn family.

This wasn't happening. How could this be happening? All she wanted to do was find out if her favorite mystery writer was okay. There was no crime in that, was there? But now she had been dragged in to…

Utter annoyance overpowering her distress, Kate lifted her head and searched the immediate area for the pint-sized nurse. When she spotted her reviewing a chart across the hall, Kate approached steadily. "Excuse me? Why did you tell Nick Rodgers family I was his fiancée?"

The nurse shrugged and replaced the chart into its slot on the wall. "Because you are."

"No, I'm not."

"Yes, you are."

Kate groaned. "No! I'm really not! What could possibly make you think that I am?"

"Because I heard you talking with that security guard about him being your future husband," the nurse said in an isn't-it-obvious tone while gesturing to the ICU entrance.

Shit. Kate shut her eyes and shook her head. What were the odds of this nurse passing by at that _exact_ moment? "We were _joking_ ," she said in an ill-sounding voice.

The nurse chortled. "Oops!"

Kate covered her face with both her hands. "This is a nightmare."

"Just tell them it was a mistake."

Kate dropped her hands and stared down at her. "How can you mistakenly admit to being someone's fiancée?" The nurse had no answer for this; she merely shrugged and continued on her rounds. Great. Just great.

Taking three more deep breaths to collect herself, Kate turned on her heel and headed back into Nick's room. She had to come clean. She had to tell the truth. And it would be fine…right? Okay, maybe not fine. Weird, definitely, but that was ok, because she didn't need to interact with them again after that moment. Sad as it was, reality had finally hit her; she and Nick were not meant to be.

Really, she'd known it all along. She as a fan—a huge fan by her own admission—and thus they could have never really been together. How often did writers—or any celebrities for that matter—marry their fans?

"Oh my goodness—there you are!" Martha proclaimed when Kate returned to the hospital room. Her tone was sweet, kind and expressed genuine caring. Kate was surprised by this; they had, after all, just met. "Are you alright, dear?"

"Oh, yes, I—I'm fine," she assured her, plastering a smile across her face. "Just needed a moment."

"I know, I know. This is just so…" she let her voice drift off as she gazed lovingly back at her son.

"Yes," Kate began with a nod. This was it. Rip off the Band-Aid. "The thing is, though, I'm actually-"

"Oh Mother! Mother what are you doing? You should be sitting down, you should…" Martha, sounding exhausted, hurried towards her mother who was attempting to stand and shuffle her way towards the exit.

"Don't like this…don't like hospitals…"

Though it was quiet, Kate heard the woman mutter as she approached.

Martha shot her husband a pleading look and he stepped forward. "Why don't we take her home? We can come right back. Lanie will stay with Nicholas."

"Of course—of course," Lanie assured them both, stepping up to the foot of the bed and placing a protective hand on one of Nick's feet.

Martha nodded, wearily. Then, she turned to Kate. "I'm sorry to have to go but-"

Kate held up a hand to silence the woman's apology. "No, please—it's fine." This was it; the perfect out. Nick's family would leave and so would she and then they would never see each other again. Sure, the family might wonder where she went, but as soon as Nick woke up everything would be straightened out. True, she did not like the cowardly aspect of this plan, but it seemed the best way to go, all things considered.

Martha took two steps towards the exit with her mother, but then paused and turned back. "Why don't you have Christmas dinner with us?"

Flabbergasted at the invitation, Kate stammered. "Wh-what?"

Martha flashed her a grin. "Christmas dinner. You don't have other plans, do you?"

"Well, I'm working, but actually-"

"Working? On Christmas?" Martha's tone indicated the concept was as scandalizing as crime itself.

"Yes, but-"

"Martha, remember, Richard…"

"Oh, yes, yes! You're right!" Martha said, patting her husband's arm. "I completely forgot—our oldest son, Richard, is traveling and he won't be back on Christmas. We're actually having our meal on the twenty-sixth. Are you available then?"

Taking one last attempt to explain herself, Kate said, "Actually, you-" but again she was cut off by the determined-to-be-hospitable family. This time, it was Martha's mother Clara who pointed at her with a trembling, crooked finger. "Come to dinner," she said.

"Please," Martha added with a softened smile. "We'd really like you to come. Especially after you saved our son's life."

Kate felt an unpleasant sensation gnawing at her gut once more. How was she supposed to say no to that? "Uh…okay. S-sure; I'll come."

Martha beamed. "Excellent! Lanie, dear, will you please make sure Kate gets our address and phone number? Kate, darling, we'll see you Friday night!"


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four**

Twenty-four hours later, Kate Beckett returned to the ICU at Beth Israel with no more clarity on what had happened than when she'd left the prior day. At least, she decided happily upon walking into Nick Rodgers' room, she was alone this time. Alone was definitely something she knew how to handle.

For Kate, Christmas morning began no different than any other work day. She rose early, showered, made herself breakfast. In fact, if not for the significantly lighter foot traffic on her way to the precinct, she probably would not have noticed anything unique about that day at all.

As she made her way through her shift that morning, Kate found her thoughts drawn continually back to the reason self-loathing ached in her gut. The feeling that kept her staring blankly off into space well into the evening and tossing and turning for much of that night. The feeling that told her while she set out to do something right, she ended up with something very, very wrong.

What was she doing? What in the actual hell was she doing?

Pretending to be someone's fiancée? No, worse—pretending to be _Nick Rodgers'_ fiancée? She had absolutely positively lost her mind.

Truthfully, no matter how many hours she contemplated it, she couldn't understand why she had not righted the situation immediately—as soon as the nurse described her with that fateful term. It was as though something had possessed her body; like her mind was no longer under her own control. Worse yet—when presented with second opportunity to do so, she still had not corrected the misunderstanding! Instead—instead!—she agreed to go to dinner with the family and provided her phone number to Nick's adopted sister to boot!

She had to come clean at the dinner. She had to; there was no way around it.

Of course, initially she thought she would be able to get away with simply not going to the dinner. She could fade away as she planned, let the Palaburn-Rodgers clan realize it was just some comedic mistake; a misunderstanding. That may have worked, too, had she not swapped numbers with Lanie, the tearful nurse.

Lanie had texted her by nine a.m. that Thursday to wish her a Merry Christmas. To be polite Kate returned the sentiments, but said no more as she didn't know what to say to the practical stranger. She was ready to move on with her day, but Lanie sent another text, sympathizing because she, too, was scheduled to work on Christmas. Kate responded, but didn't wish to continue to complain as it felt disingenuous. Lanie had the misfortune of pulling a shift on Christmas day; Kate had chosen hers.

As the day progressed and Kate responded to a call a mugged man made from a midtown subway platform, her thoughts were drawn back to the writer. Though he may not have been fully aware of it, Nick Rodgers was spending Christmas alone in the hospital and her heart broke for him. She knew all too well the pains of being away from family for the holidays; she would not wish such a fate on anyone—even if they were unconscious.

It was then she decided she would visit the hospital on her way home from her shift. Beth Israel wasn't exactly on her well-traveled route, but what else did she have to do that evening? Keep reading her less-than-stellar book? Nick's mysteries were far superior. Watch the replay of _It's a Wonderful Life_ on television for the hundredth time? She didn't feel in the mood. Besides, how could she turn down an all-access pass to stare at and memorize every inch of Nick's face?

Kate stood in the doorway to his ICU room for several moments, her fingertips resting lightly against the doorframe. She watched him from afar, still surprised she was actually standing in the same room with him. (As the previous day's events still felt like a bizarre dream, she had yet to fully process the fact that she had actually _touched him.)_

Slowly, as though one would approach a worshiped relic, Kate took several steps into the room. She paused a foot from the end of the bed, watching the gentle rise and fall of his chest. Her gaze drifted to the bedside monitors displaying pulse and blood oxygen levels. As she had no medical degree, these meant virtually nothing to her. However, the fact that he was still alive certainly was a comfort.

Her chest feeling less tight the longer she stood there, Kate soon felt brave enough to sit in the chair just beside his bed. She tucked a stray strand of her chestnut locks behind her ear and rested her palms flat against the tops of her knees.

How long had it been? Since she sat exactly there watching over a different sleeping man? Barely eighteen months, but it felt so much longer. That incident ended in tragedy and so she sent out a silent wish to the universe that this would have a better outcome.

Scooting closer to the edge of her chair, Kate craned her neck to gaze down at the writer, taking in every inch of his face from the purpling bruise over his eye to the dark stubble accumulating on his jaw. His eyelashes were long, she observed; very long. She imagined how they would flutter when he smiled (possibly even while he looked at her?).

A tightness forming in her chest, Kate cleared her throat and leaned back in her chair once more. Could he hear what was going on, she wondered. Was he alert and merely trapped in a frozen form? Had he heard everything that happened the prior afternoon and wonder who the psychotic woman was who confessed to being his non-existent fiancée?

Fearing that the case, Kate felt the inexplicable urge to explain herself. "I, um, hi…hi Nick," she began, stupidly. "We've, ah, we've never really met. I mean, I did pull you off the tracks yesterday, but you were already unconscious so I don't think that counts as meeting.

"My name is Kate—Kate Beckett. I've been a NYPD officer working in vice for a few years now, but, uh, you're the first person I've ever saved so…there's that," she added with a laugh. "I'm glad I saved you. You're my favorite writer, you see. You probably hear that a lot, huh? I'm sure you do, but it's true. I've read all your books! Well, I guess you probably hear that a lot too."

Great, she thought, chastising herself. Leave it to her to say something stupid during a one-sided conversation.

"Look, if you can hear me, you're probably wondering what's going on. I'm sorry about all this—I'd call it a misunderstanding, but I don't think I can since I didn't actively try to fix it. I don't know why, really. Truly. I mean, your grandmother—I thought she was having a heart attack. I didn't…I was afraid to upset her. Stupid reason I guess," she confessed, "but if something had happened to her I would have felt awful."

"Your family…they seem really nice. Really, really nice. I don't want to lie to them so I'm totally going to come clean at dinner tomorrow night. Oh, right, I'm having dinner with your parents—guess I should have explained that first," she added with a laugh.

"Christmas dinner, if I'm being technical. I know I shouldn't have agreed, since I'm not technically your fiancée and all, but your mom did say she invited me to thank me for saving your life, which is true—I did that. But also I thought…well, I'm not going to have Christmas dinner this year. I mean, I'll make myself dinner tonight, but I don't think it counts as Christmas dinner if you're eating by yourself, do you? Christmas dinner, by definition, involves at least one other person.

"Course, what am I saying?" she shook her head and ran her fingers across her brow. "You probably have no idea what I'm talking about. Someone like you with a great family like that. Plus I'm sure you have girlfriends too, right? You're not…alone."

She remained silent as the word hung in the air. _Alone_. Sometimes she felt as though it was tattooed across her forehead. Twenty-five and alone. The concept was crazy. She was in her mid-twenties—she couldn't possibly be _alone_ yet…there she sat, in a nearly empty ICU on Christmas talking to a man in a coma.

What Kate didn't realize was that she wasn't alone—not technically. Standing in the doorway of the ICU was a young woman intent on visiting her brother. She had the same thoughts as Kate; she didn't want him to be alone on Christmas, but when she arrived and found the alleged fiancée there instead, she decided to listen. Admittedly, not the most Christmasy thing to do, but Lanie couldn't help it; she was curious.

How, she wondered, had Nick managed to hide a fiancée from her? From his parents? That seemed…highly unlikely, though given how secretive he'd been in the prior few weeks not entirely unheard of. Nick meeting a woman, having a whirlwind relationship with her and ending up engaged? That was certainly plausible; it had happened before. Not the engaged part—but the whirlwind relationship that later crashed and burned, definitely.

Granted, each of those women had "Gold digger" plastered all over them. This one—the cop—she definitely didn't fit the mold. Suddenly, it all made sense.

Of course Nick wasn't actually engaged to a cop. That was preposterous. But the cop had saved him. That was interesting; very interesting. So interesting, in fact, that Lanie decided she wouldn't reveal herself and instead tiptoed away. At least this way the whole family would get to have a civilized Christmas, which was far better than she expected the day before.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter Five**

"Lanie, darling, have you finished setting the table? I could use some help in here."

"Be right there, Mom," Lanie responded to the frantic red-head in the kitchen. No one ever said cooking was Martha's strong suit. In fact, they were lucky to survive the meal without food poisoning on most occasions, but on Christmas she left no stone unturned: turkey, stuffing, at least six more side dishes not to mention freshly baked rolls. The only line Martha drew was around dessert—she was a cooker not a baker, she always said. But that was alright with Laine as she felt the opposite. Crafting a few desserts for the family who had taken her in when she had no place to go was the least she could do.

After setting the last fork and knife in their proper positions, Lanie walked to the kitchen and found Martha staring with a crinkled brow down into a pot of half-mashed potatoes. "I just cannot for the life of me get these smooth and that turkey needs to come out of the oven any moment and-"

"Mom; I got it," Lanie assured her, taking the mashing implement from Martha's death grip. She offered the elder woman a warm smile before turning her attention back to the stubborn vegetables.

"I know, I know—I'm making too much of this, but I just want everything to be perfect, especially with Nicholas not being here and…"

As she could hear her mother's voice begin to waiver, Lanie looked up, forcing a positive expression back on her face. "I know, but he looked better today, didn't he? Nick had more color, I mean."

"He did—he absolutely did; you're right." A brightened expression on her face, Martha retrieved oven mitts and turned her attention to the turkey.

"Smells great in here, ladies," Chet announced when he returned from his hiding spot in the office-slash-spare bedroom. He always found it best to make himself scarce when his wife was in one of her frantic moods. He reached out to snag one of the fresh dinner rolls only to have his fingers swatted away by her mitted hand. Slightly miffed, he folded his arms over his chest and leaned back against the counter. "So has anyone heard from that cop woman? What was her name? Kate?"

"Yes, Kate," Martha confirmed. "And you may as well learn her name. She is your son's _fiancée_."

Chet scoffed. "Don't remind me."

Martha turned to him, fists resting at her hips. "Chet Palaburn don't you start. She seemed like a lovely girl. She a cop! And she saved your son's life!"

Chet softened his expression. "You know it's not her I'm angry with. _She_ isn't the one who didn't tell her parents she was in a serious relationship let alone planning a marriage."

Lanie let out a snort of laughter. "Oh, Dad, be serious. I highly doubt they're actively planning a wedding."

Chet raised an eyebrow at her. "Yeah? What aren't you telling us, Lanie?"

The young woman shook her head. She had no intention of revealing her secret knowledge, but felt no harm in saying the thoughts she was thinking before hearing Kate's confession the afternoon before. "Nothing. I mean, I don't know anything officially, but I know Nick. If I had to guess, this engagement thing was very…spur-of-the-moment. And recent, I'd bet. There's no way they're actively planning a wedding—assuming they even get married at all. Nick might be head over heels right now, but let him come down to reality after the holidays—then we'll see."

Martha considered this a moment before glancing at her husband. "That does sound like Nick," she admitted, though it pained her to do so. She wanted him to settle down, find a nice girl, and get married, but despite nearing his thirtieth birthday, Nick did not appear to share those sentiments.

Chet's only response was to "hmm" into the hand skimming across his chin.

Resolving herself to a more positive attitude, Martha continued. "But, that doesn't mean we shouldn't be extremely hospitable to Kate. You never know—maybe she's the one!"

"Maybe," Lanie added. Of course she knew the real truth—that Kate was merely pretending to be Nick's fiancée—but as she wanted a smooth, turmoil-free holiday dinner, she kept that information buttoned up. She saw absolutely no harm in playing along with the charade at least through the holidays and she did not want to give her parents any reason to be suspicious of Kate. Though, taking the story at face value, it seemed mindful to be suspicious of someone who constructed a fake life, Lanie had heard the sadness in Kate's voice the prior day. Had it not been for Nick's family, she could have easily been in the exact same situation, which was why she was giving the girl the benefit of the doubt—at least, for the time being.

A minute later, the doorbell of their apartment rang and, in her excitement, Martha nearly dropped their crisp-on-the-outside, juicy-on-the-inside perfectly cooked turkey. "Oh Richard! That must be Richard!" She squealed with delight as she rushed to the front of the apartment, but upon opening the door she found not her eldest boy, but a timid, almost fearful looking young woman. Her chestnut hair framed her face with soft, lovely curls. She wore the slightest touches of mascara and lip gloss, but wore no other makeup; her youthful face didn't need it. Dressed in a red sweater and black dress pants, she looked more like she was attending the NYPD department holiday party than attending a family Christmas meal.

"Oh Kate, darling. Hello! Did you find us alright?" Martha asked, ushering the girl inside.

"Um, yes, yes it was fine. I, um, brought you this," she said, passing over a bottle of red wine topped with a red bow.

Martha thanked the young woman and offered to take her coat along with the present. Kate passed it over and gazed around the Palaburn-Rodgers' apartment for the first time. To say they had decorated for Christmas would have been a grand understatement. In fact, she believed it entirely possible that several of the "Get Your Picture with Santa!" establishments she had seen in the city were decorated with less red and green than this apartment. It was…overwhelming.

"Wow, um, your—your tree is…spectacular," Kate told the red-headed woman, nodding to the eight foot red, green, and gold monstrosity across the living space. Truly, it was a sight to be seen—out of a catalog, even, but as Kate's tastes tended towards classic, elegant and, most importantly, subtle, she found the tree to be a bit much.

"Oh thank you—I just feel like I get more and more decorations every year!" Martha gushed, while Kate fought a laugh. Martha needn't have said that; simply looking at the tree made that painfully apparent.

Despite the over-the-top spruce, Kate thoroughly enjoyed the rest of the apartment's decorations. Snowflakes, Santa figurines, and even an interesting looking ornate manger filled the tabletops and bookshelves. The warm red hues not to mention the glowing light of the fire made the apartment feel like home despite it being her first visit there. Not until that moment did Kate realized how much she missed that feeling.

"I really am glad you're here," Martha told her. "We're already one short with Nick not being here and then this morning we found out my mother wouldn't be joining us.

"Oh I hope she's alright," Kate said quickly, knowing how frail the woman had seemed two days earlier.

Martha gave her a grateful smile. "I think she will be. Everything that happened two days ago completely wore her out and she just didn't feel up to traveling today; she's in an assisted living facility," Martha added as an explanation. Kate nodded and took a step down the hall, trailing in the red-head's wake.

As Martha led the way to the kitchen and adjoining dining area, Kate continued to take in the space. The apartment really was quite impressive. On her trek to the Palaburn-Rodgers residence that evening Kate tried her best to piece together all the knowledge she had about Nick Rodgers' family. She had seen and read practically every interview he had done, but could not recall many mentions of a family. She did recall a brother being mentioned (presumably the elder Richard whom she had not met). She also remembered that Nick didn't finish college because he was able to publish his book while still in attendance, but she could not recall anything about his family.

Midway to the kitchen, this stopped her in her tracks. His family—she didn't know about his family! Wouldn't she, as Nick's fiancée, know about his family!? Damn, that did mess with her time table, didn't it?

Despite changing her mind about attending the dinner several dozen times, Kate had finally decided that she would attend and come clean about her status as the fake fiancée, but she would do so after the meal. On this point, she debated heavily. Before the meal, she could leave and not impose upon their hospitality, but by doing so she ran the risk of actually ruining their family Christmas. Ultimately, her desire to not ruin a family event while one family member maintained a coma in the hospital won over.

She would tell them after dinner and then make a quick exit. It was possibly not the best plan (though, given the situation, no plan was a good plan), but it meant she had to make her way through the dinner the best she could. She planned on deflecting a lot of questions and changing the subject quite a bit. That was assuming she wasn't put on the spot too often.

"Chet, Lanie, you remember Kate," Martha introduced the young officer. "Kate, can I get you something to drink?"

"Oh, um yes. Some water would be great," Kate told her with a smile.

"We have red and white wine. Or some of Chet's whisky if you prefer," Martha added with a side glance towards her husband.

"Water's fine for now," Kate assured her. Martha nodded and disappeared in the direction of the refrigerator. In the momentary silence, Kate cleared her throat and asked, "Ho-how's Nick doing?"

"No change, really," Chet informed her. "Still in the coma."

"But his color looked much better today—much better!" Martha insisted before handing Kate a wine glass full of clear liquid.

When Martha excused herself to the kitchen once more, the remaining trio stood silently in the area between the kitchen and the hall for several moments before a thud from the entryway startled Kate so much that she jumped and slopped water out of her glass. Momentarily distracted, she checked her sweater and pants for water spots, and glanced up a moment later to see a large-framed man approaching the kitchen wearing brown trench coat, his arms weighted down with shopping bags.

"I know, I know—I'm late. Sorry, couldn't get a cab…Actually, some guy stole my cab. It's like jeez, buddy—it's still the Christmas season here, right?"

Kate stepped aside and watched as the man brushed right past, not even noticing her. Curiously, she watched as he set his bags down against the far wall, shrugged off his coat and tossed it over the back of a dining room chair. Only then was she able to his face properly for the first time.

Interesting.

Based on context alone, she deduced this to be Richard, Nick's elder brother. Despite their heights, Kate did not see very much resemblance between the two. The older Rodgers sibling had a stockier, sturdier frame making him appear much larger than his lanky brother, though their heights were most likely all but identical. Richard's face was also a bit rougher, more rugged than Nick's. His jaw was a bit more rounded, less defined, and his nose significantly larger. Their eyes, though; they had the same piercing blue eyes. And, she decided after another second of looking, their hair was quite similar, though Richard's was a few shades lighter.

"Oh Richard—you made it back!" A glow emanated from his mother's eyes as she walked into the dining area, her arms outstretched.

"Mother!" He greeted her with a hug and kiss on the cheek. Then, turning towards the elder man in the room he clapped a meaty hand on his shoulder. "Dad!"

"Rick," Chet responded, his tone even.

"Lanie, lovely as always." The latecomer turned to the next female in the room and gave her a one-armed hug. Then, turning to his left, he faced the final person in the room—the one he had yet to meet. His face immediately fell slack and he let out a very eloquent, "Whoa," in the face of the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen.

Kate smiled at him demurely. "Hello."

"H-hi…"

Martha clicked her tongue at her slack-jawed son. "Richard, honestly. Close your mouth. Didn't I teach you to greet guests better than that?"

"Wha—oh, sorry mother." He snapped his jaw shut as though he'd just been awoken from a trance. Clearing his throat, he extended out his hand to the lovely woman before him and said, "Sorry I'm Rick—Rick Rodgers."

The young woman slipped her hand in his. "Kate Beckett."

* * *

 _A/N: Just wanted to thank everyone so much for their reviews & follows - i really appreciate them!_


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter Six**

"Kate Beckett."

"Nick's _fiancée_ , remember?" Martha said in her well perfected motherly tone that said, "We spoke about this, remember Richard? You do pay attention to me when we talk on the phone, don't you? Or were you playing with your iPad again?" in just three words.

Rick smacked his palm against his forehead as though someone had just reminded him that the sky was blue. This was Nick's fiancée. Right, his mother had mentioned that. How could he have forgotten? It was only the single most bizarre news he'd heard that week—hell, that month. His brother was engaged. Suddenly. Out of the blue. No clues, no forewarning. No "Hey, family, would you like to meet this girl I've been seeing for a while; she's really special." Just bam—zero to sixty.

"Oh right—right! Fiancée, hmm?" Rick drew his hand back and slid it into his pockets. He took two steps towards her and examined her head to toe, sizing her up as though one would a job candidate. "Funny…Nick never mentioned he was engaged."

Kate felt her ears growing hot and fought embarrassment the best she could. God, this was harder than she thought it would be. All these lies were exhausting! Just another hour or so, she told herself. Keep your cover and it will be fine. "It's, ah, a new engagement."

Rick smiled at her. "Well let's see it then."

She cocked her head to the side. "Excuse me?"

He blinked slowly as he spoke. "The ring—let's see the ring."

Crap! Ring? Ring!? Was she supposed to have a ring!? "I, ah, I don't have one," she blurted out, thinking quickly on her feet. That made sense…right? Then again, judging by the perplexed expressions surrounding her, maybe not.

"Nick didn't give you a ring?" Lanie asked, a knowing ring in her voice. She couldn't help but be curious just how far the cop would take her farce. "That doesn't seem like him…"

"No, no," Kate said, coming up with a quick and reasonable explanation on the fly. "I didn't want one. I…I can't really wear one with my job…plus, I'm not that big on jewelry—I hardly ever wear earrings and rings? Forget about it," she added with a nervous laugh. Then, she smiled gently, proud that she her brain had produced a plausible explanation.

"What is it that you do?" Nick's brother asked.

She turned to him. "I'm a cop."

His eyebrows rose. Upon sight of her he was interested. Hearing her melodious voice he was intrigued, but finding out this beautiful, shy looking woman was a member of the NYPD? Now he was downright fascinated. "Really? Interesting. Tell me more."

"Richard!" his mother scolded. She threw up her hands and gestured towards the table before them. "Stop being a reporter for one minute and let everyone sit down and enjoy their meal."

While Rick held up his hands defensively and walked towards the table, Kate's curiosity had been piqued. As she took her own seat, she asked him, "You're a reporter?"

"Sports reporter," Chet responded for him in a tone that did not sound even remotely in the same ballpark as proud.

"Yeah—freelance," Rick said. "Lot of online stuff nowadays, you know? Lots of travel, too. That can be interesting—don't get me wrong—but it can also be a pain in the ass. Like when you have to miss Christmas because your flight gets canceled," he said, winking at his sister across the table. "But, you know—it pays the bills."

Kate smiled softly at him while tucking her napkin in her lap. "I guess writing runs in the family then." While she heard Lanie laugh, Rick averted his eyes to the table and said nothing.

"So Kate, darling, tell us—do you get some sort of award for saving Nicholas?" Martha asked once everyone was seated at the table and passing around steaming bowls and plates of scrumptious holiday food.

"What do you mean?"

"You know, an award—a medal, badge of honor?"

"Ah," Kate said nervously, passing the mashed potatoes to the writer on her left, "I don't think so, Martha; I was just doing my job."

"Wait," Rick said, turning towards the embarrassed girl, "you saved Nick?"

"Yes, yes Richard—I told you this!" his mother said, annoyed.

He glanced at his mother. "I'm pretty sure you didn't because I would have remembered that."

While Martha shrugged, Kate did her best to deflect. "It was not big deal, really."

"She pulled his body off the train tracks; he would have died if it wasn't for her," Lanie explained as Kate's cheeks grew redder.

Rick gazed at the woman beside him, his expression displaying equal parts amazement and gratitude. "Then, I'd like to propose a toast." He raised his glass and the remainder of the table followed suit. "To Kate Beckett for giving us a reason to have a Merry Christmas."

* * *

An hour later, Kate sat on a chair beside the fireplace in the apartment living room taking in the love, laughter and togetherness surrounding her. Her fingertips lazily stroked the fringe around the edges of the brand new midnight blue scarf resting in her lap (a gift from "Santa"). She watched Lanie tease her mother while Rick tossed tiny balls of wrapping paper at each of them like an irritating pre-teen boy. She laughed when Lanie began sticking all the gift bows on Rick's shirt and he attempted (and failed) to rearrange them in the shape of a Christmas tree. She smiled at Chet's glee over the new golf club he received.

This, she decided, _this_ was a family.

Growing up an only child, Kate never felt unloved or like she was missing out on anything. She had her parents and more than enough presents to share. Sure, at school she heard funny stories about her classmates and their siblings during the holidays, but they were amusing from a far; like watching a Christmas movie about the Griswolds. In that respect, she took the 'Can't miss what you never had' standpoint. (Plus, being showered with gifts she didn't have to share never hurt.)

Watching the Palaburn-Rodgers family though Kate realized what she had missed out on all those years. True, she skipped the bickering and the fights both verbal and physical, but she also missed out on the teasing, the practical jokes, and mostly the love. At that point in her life, twenty-five with no immediate family to speak of, the love was what hit her the most.

The way Martha smiled at her two children made every fiber of her being ache. Part of her wanted to drop everything and sprint from the apartment. Being there made her miss her own mother so much she could hardly breathe, but she couldn't; Kate was rooted to the spot. Despite how sad it made her, she also wished to devour it—every second—for it reminded her that such love still existed in the world and she wanted to be a part of it, if only from the outside looking in.

"Hey."

A smooth voice to her left startled Kate and she jumped so much that the folded scarf slid to the floor. The man beside her crouched down, picked it up, and returned it to her lap before dropping down to his knee so that he was eye-level with her. "Are you okay?"

"W-what? Ye-yeah. Yeah, absolutely. Why wouldn't I be ok? It's Christmas," she added, sitting up a bit straighter and forcing a smile across her face.

Rick shook his head gently as he looked at her. "You just looked a million miles away."

Kate widened the smile on her face and thought quickly of the most plausible explanation. "I…I was thinking about Nick and how it's a shame he's missing this."

"Well there's no need to worry about that, darling," Martha chimed in. "We'll do this all again when Nick wakes up."

"Great," Rick muttered, his voice dripping with sarcasm as he pushed himself back up into a standing position.

"Kate, dear, I forgot to ask you—what did you do yesterday? Did you spend it with your family? Do they live in the city?" Martha asked while gathering up stray bits of wrapping paper from the couch and floor.

Ah, Kate thought, her least favorite subject to talk about… "No, actually, I don't really have any family."

Four pairs of eyes immediately descended on her. "No parents?" Chet inquired.

She shook her head. "They both passed away."

Martha's expression crumbled into one of great sadness. "Oh my dear—I am so sorry."

Kate shook her head quickly, absolving her of any guilt. "No, please. It's fine; you didn't know."

"So what did you do?" Rick inquired.

Kate lifted one shoulder then dropped it. "Worked."

"Did you save anyone else from a train?" he asked with a smile.

She laughed lightly. "No, no; nothing exciting—just a regular day."

"Still, it sucks to have to work on Christmas," Lanie said knowingly.

"Actually, I like working holiday shifts," Kate told them. "I mean, I don't mind. Most of my coworkers have young kids and I know they'd much rather spend Christmas morning with their families so I take all the holiday shifts I can."

Rick gazed at her, his amazement growing at her noble action. "Well, maybe yesterday was your last Christmas shift. I mean…who knows. Next Christmas you and Nick could be married; you could spend it with us."

She turned her gaze back to her lap as she responded with a lackluster. "Yeah…maybe."

* * *

 _A/N: Quick programming update. I'm going on vacation this weekend so there will be no Saturday update. The next update will be **Tuesday August 18th**. Thanks!_


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter Seven**

Idiot. She was an idiot.

Kate Beckett awoke Saturday morning, four days after the incident on the subway platform, her gut churning with self-loathing. She was an idiot.

The previous night at the Palaburn-Rodgers apartment, after she dragged the mood down with her revelation about her lack of family, Rick suggested that they play a round of Cards Against Humanity to get back into the Christmas spirit. Having never heard of the up-and-coming game, Kate agreed and was immediately confused when the two parents fled the room.

Twenty minutes later, Kate had tears rolling down her face and could barely sit upright from laughing so hard at the oh-so-very-wrong, yet-so-very-right game. Though her responses were timid at first, Kate quickly grew to enjoy the wildly inappropriate fun and was slamming down even wilder cards with each round. She was having so much fun with Lanie and Rick that she failed to realize the time until it had become quite late. In her haste to say goodbye, any thoughts of coming clean about her lack of relationship status with Nick had vanished from her mind.

That Saturday morning—the first morning in almost a week that she did not need to hurry off to work—Kate lie in her bed staring at the ceiling wondering what the hell she was going to do. She had to tell them. Of course she had to tell them. She definitely had to tell them but…how?

After Christmas dinner things were definitely more complex. They had always been complicated, but now their level of complexity had grown significantly, mind-boggling as that was. She actually cared about them now—cared a lot—meaning she felt even worse about hurting them, disappointing them. Revealing the truth would definitely do both of those things.

Finally resolving herself to the fact that lying in bed half the morning would win her nothing, Kate pushed herself from the mattress, grabbed her well-worn gray robe off the back of the bedroom door and shuffled her way out into her modest apartment. Strictly speaking it was the modest apartment her father purchased after remaining in her childhood home had been too painful for him. After his death, Kate had inherited the place. It wasn't very large (she would have hated sharing it with another person) but the mid-town location was excellent.

As she stood in the cramped kitchen waiting for her coffee to brew, a box seated on the floor several feet from the entryway caught her attention. Sitting there next to her thick winter boots it had almost been forgotten, but with nothing else pressing to do she decided to explore.

On Christmas Day after her visit with Nick, a kind nurse had handed her the box of her fiancée's belongings. At the time, Kate had been too exhausted to argue or attempt to explain why her possessing the box would be inappropriate. She'd merely accepted it with a tired thank you and shuffled her way to the elevator.

Seated on the floor, her robe snuggled around her and a steaming cup of coffee within arm's reach, Kate began the delicate task of sorting through the box. Plunging her hand inside, she first came into contact with something firm and rectangular. Procuring the item, she realized it was the writer's wallet.

A gentle smile on her face, she skimmed her fingers across the supple black leather and let it fall open in her hand. She observed his driver's license (of could his picture was absolutely perfect), a few credit cards (no doubt with five figure limits at least), and a few hundred dollars in cash. Setting the wallet aside, she reached for the next item in the box and felt the strap of the leather messenger bag Nick carried that fateful morning.

Her mind spinning with the possibilities of its contents, Kate pulled the bag into her lap and unzipped the closure. Much to her disappointment, the bag did not contain the manuscript to his next novel. While the bag did contain a spiral bound notebook, all the pages appeared to be blank. The bag also contained a few discarded pens, a half pack of gum, and a lint-covered piece of hard candy which she tossed into the nearest trash can with a grimace.

The final item inside was a petite brown paper bag containing something solid and round. Intrigued, she flipped the bag upside down and let the contents fall into her lap. One item, a rounded aluminum can no larger than her palm, dropped onto her thigh. Kate picked up the can and gasped upon reading the label. _Fancy Feast: Turkey Feast_. Cat food! Nick had cat food in his bag!

The only conclusion that Kate could draw was that Nick owned a cat—a cat who, she realized with great horror, might not have been fed in several days. Poor kitty!

Fueled by great concern, Kate rushed to the bathroom to make herself as presentable as possible in the shortest period of time. Eight minutes later she shoved the cat food can and Nick's wallet into her purse, grabbed a jacket and headed out the door.

* * *

Kate was not surprised in the least to find that Nick's address was actually a swanky looking apartment building in one of Manhattan's most up-and-coming sections. She hurried her way inside only to realize that with Nick's belongings she found no apartment key. Frantic, she began searching through his wallet until she discovered a credit card with no VISA or MasterCard logo. Instead, it bore the emblem of the apartment building. It was then she realized that the lock to Nick's apartment door was a card lock, much like that in a hotel.

Kate let herself into 12B and stepped cautiously into the foreign space. "Here kitty! Here kitty kitty!" she called out softly all the while praying, _Please don't let me find a dead cat—please!_

The white walled, white tile floored hall led directly to a galley-style kitchen. On the floor against the back wall Kate spotted two dishes: one, completely empty and the other with a scant amount of liquid inside. This, she determined, was a good sign.

She continued her calls for the mystery kitty while rinsing, filling and replacing the water bowl. It wasn't until she cracked open the _Fancy Feast_ can that she heard the soft padding of feet and a very mournful meow. Glancing down at the floor, she spotted a pure white Persian cat rounding the corner from the hall.

"Aw, hello pretty kitty. You must be so hungry," Kate cooed. Though, if forced to choose, Kate would have considered herself a dog person rather than a cat person, she did not have any dislike towards cats. In fact, she had fond memories of a grandmother's cat curling up on her lap and purring when she would visit as a young child. But in the face of the clearly starving feline, Kate's heart broke a little.

After emptying the can into the bowl on the floor, Kate exited the kitchen and allowed the Persian to chow down in peace. Walking towards the back of the apartment she decided a self-guided tour was the thing to do. After all, when else would she get a chance to explore a famous writer's domain?

Stepping out of the kitchen and moving to her left, Kate found herself in a large open space with floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the New York streets below. She found the décor, in a word, curious. The overarching theme of the apartment was monochrome: blacks and whites abounded with very few pops of color in between. The couch was a very boxy, modern style that to Kate did not appear comfortable or welcoming in the least.

Shaking her head slightly at the writer's taste, Kate turned her attention to the thing in the room she was most interested in: Nick's bookshelves. She'd always been curious what kind of books writers read, and this was her chance to discover. A spring in her step, she crossed the room to the first of two identical side-by-side bookshelves.

The top shelf had, unsurprisingly, a copy of each of his eleven titles. As she owned and read each of them, she moved to the next shelf down. That one contained mostly science fiction books, which she found interesting, as that was not the genre he wrote for. She spent the better part of the next twenty minutes reading the name of each of the books on his shelf and was extremely surprised to find that none of them were mystery books. How, she wondered, did he write such fantastic mysteries without reading them himself? She wasn't sure, but then again, she was not a writer.

Kate crossed the living room area and found herself in front of two doors. One, presumably leading to a bathroom and the other to a bedroom. She paused, chewing on her bottom lip. Did she really want to look in Nick Rodgers bedroom? Well _obviously_ she did, but should she, was the real question.

As she stood in contemplation, Kate was ripped from her internal debate by a horrifying sound: someone had unlatched the front door to Nick's place; someone was coming inside.

Letting out a string of curses under her breath, Kate froze on the spot and searched the immediate vicinity as though an escape hatch would suddenly appear. Who the hell was coming into the apartment? Clearly, it wasn't Nick. Not only was he still (most likely) unconscious, but she had his key! Her cop instincts kicked in, but damn she was unarmed! She searched the immediate area for the next best thing: a golf club propped in the corner by the bookshelves; that would work.

Kate tip-toed her way to the club and picked it up, holding it over her shoulder like a ballplayer would a bat as he stood at home plate. She crept her way towards the intruder and rounded the corner the same time he did. They both yelped upon colliding with each other. Kate dropped the golf club, stepped back and stared up at the familiar figure.

"What are you doing here!?" they demanded in unison, both of their hearts racing.

"I, ah, I…I came to feed the cat," Kate said.

"I came to check—wait," Rick interrupted his own thought, "What cat?"

"The cat," she said simply.

Rick's brow furrowed. "Nick doesn't have a cat."

"Sure he does," Kate said. As if on cue, the full-bellied feline emerged from the kitchen. Kate brushed past Rick up and scooped up the white ball of fluff, cradling her in her arms as she turned back to the perplexed elder man.

"Huh," he said. Nick, the hater of all things cluttered and disorderly, with a long-haired pet. That was…unexpected. "Did you guys just get him?"

"Her," Kate corrected, ruffling the kitty's pink collar before placing he back on the ground. "She's a rescue."

Rick nodded, slipped his hands into the pockets of his dark jeans and walked towards the oversized windows. "Well Mother wanted me to check on the place…" He stopped walking in the center of the room and spun around to face her, "Hey can I ask you something?" After she nodded him on, he asked, "How did you and Nick meet?"

She took a few steps towards him. "What do you mean?"

He shrugged, not knowing how else to phrase the question. "How did you meet?"

Feeling her cheeks grow hot, Kate tried to calm herself. Okay. This was okay; she had prepared for this. As it was the most basic question someone could ask, she had prepared an answer just in case and, amazingly, it wasn't a total lie. "On the subway – I was on shift; we were getting in the same car and kind of bumped into each other. Got to talking… why?" she added noting the suspicious eyebrow raise gave her.

He shook his head. "Nothing. It's just curious…you're not really his type."

Slightly miffed, she folded her arms over her chest. "What's that supposed to mean?"

He took a step towards her and ticked off the reasons on his fingertips. "Well, for starters, you're not blonde. Also, your cup size is about half what he'd normally go for."

With his second comment Kate had progressed to full-on offended. What a terrible thing to say! Moments earlier she had been observing him in his tan and green plaid shirt thinking how the casual look really fit him and now he was making rude comments! Her defensive mode kicking in, Kate snapped, "Oh I see…so you're basing your suspicions on our relationship about the fact that I'm not pretty enough?"

"No, you're beautiful," he told her in a tone with an alarming amount of conviction. "I'm just saying you're not his type."

His compliment did lessen her rage slightly, but Kate still felt singed. So what if she wasn't blonde with perky D-cup breasts? Was it such a crazy notion that handsome, wealthy Nick be interested in her? Why not her? She was kind and caring and, well, okay she wasn't all that funny in most situations, but she was an excellent listener and gave good advice. "Well," she continued her defense (the fact that she was defending a non-existent relationship never entering her mind), "maybe that's why he's never been engaged before."

"Yeah, speaking of that – when did you say you guys got engaged?"

As Rick drew closer to her, Kate continued to take steps back until she had moved back out into the hallway. "I-I don't think I did." Nope, she definitely hadn't thought of a cover story for that lie.

"So when did you?"

"Recently."

"How recently?"

Though his expression seemed to be one of amusement, Kate still remained skeptical of his inquiry. "Why does it matter?"

"Why are you avoiding my questions?" he countered with a pointed look. She dropped her chin to her chest but fought the urge to look away from his gaze, feeling that doing so could give away her lie.

After staring at each other for several more moments, Rick broke their stare. "Okay fine," he confessed. "The reason I ask is because last I heard my brother was sleeping with his publisher, Gina."

"Oh—Oh right," she said, buying herself time to come up with a story on the fly. "He told me about her. They broke up not too long before we met. Then we got together and everything was kind of a whirlwind you know?" she laughed nervously. Engaged before they'd officially spoke to each other? Yep, calling that a whirlwind was putting it mildly, wasn't it?

He chuckled. "You don't say…"

Kate stuffed her hands down into her jean pockets and turned towards the exit, feeling a quick escape was prudent—before he could ask any more pesky questions that was. "Well I should get going…"

"You're not taking the cat with you?" Rick asked, gesturing towards the sun bathing fur ball a few feet from them.

Kate shook her head. "I don't want to upset her…I'll keep feeding her though—you don't have to worry."

"I wasn't. Listen, ah, Mother's making another big dinner tonight if you-"

"Can't," she cut him off with the shake of her head. Still backing towards the door she explained further, "On shift."

"Right, right…some other time then," he said.

She flashed him a meek smile before saying a hurried goodbye and escaping out into the hallway.

* * *

 _A/N: Hi guys! Just wanted to remind you again that I will be posting on Thursday of this week and then not again until Tuesday the 25th because I'm going to Comic Con this weekend. I'm meeting Nathan Fillion and Adam Baldwin and (if the timing works out) Norman Reedus - so excited :) AND because I'm so grateful for your patience with my wacky posting sched, I will give you 3 chapters next week! Tues, Thurs & Saturday!_


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter Eight**

After her run-in with Nick's brother at his apartment, Kate spent the majority of her shift thinking about the gigantic sized hole she'd dug herself in. By that point, with her copious number of lies on top of other lies on top of more lies, the hole was several miles deep. And, quite honestly, she had yet to think of a plausible means of extracting herself from it.

Rip off the bandage, she told herself. Just look them in the eye and tell them the truth. Granted, that was easier said than done.

She wanted to take the coward's way out. She wanted to run and hide. Change her phone number, even. Anything to avoid the conversation she needed to have. A conversation that undoubtedly would be the worse she'd had that year, possibly even the worst in two years. It was going to be awful. Positively, completely, gut-wrenchingly awful especially considering her mental rehearsals of said conversations had her popping antacids like they were breath mints. But once it was done, it would be done. No more lying, even if that meant leaving the Palaburn-Rodgers behind.

Despite resolving herself to telling the truth the next time she saw his family, Kate decided to visit Nick Rodgers one last time. She rationalized this to herself by stating that she was just saying goodbye. Clearly, after she told the truth to Nick's family she would never be seeing any of them again, both because they wouldn't want to see her and she wouldn't want to see them in a fruitless attempt to save face.

On some level, Kate also felt a certain amount of guilt for Nick's hospitalization. Yes, she pulled him from the train tracks and thusly saved his life; she was well aware of that. However, if that fateful morning she had been doing her job properly and not staring at him like a teenage girl ogling her favorite pop star, Nick might not have been attacked at all.

Early that Sunday morning, Kate arrived in the ICU and nodded her hellos to the nurses on staff. She needed to be at work beginning at noon, so she didn't have too long to stay. This was also part of her plan. She couldn't stay too long and watch Nick's eyelids flutter; she needed to get to the precinct.

Walking at a hurried pace, Kate failed to take notice that Nick was not alone in the room until she nearly reached the foot of his bed. There, she spotted a figure sitting in the chair by his feet and jumped. At her gasp, the figure looked up and gave her a half smile.

"Good morning, Kate."

"Lanie," Kate said, letting out a long exhale to calm her heart rate. "H-Hi. I'm sorry; I didn't think anyone would be here…"

"Just visiting before my shift," Lanie explained.

"Ditto," Kate informed her with a nervous laugh. "But I can come back. I don't want to-"

"Wait." Lanie stopped the girl backing towards the exit. "We should talk about something."

"Oh?" she responded, her voice light as she had absolutely no idea what the other woman could be talking about.

Lanie stood from her chair and approached Kate so that they stood barely two feet apart. With her hands clasped in front of her she spoke very calmly. "I heard you the other day when you were here visiting Nick. The day you told him you're not really his fiancée."

Kate felt her stomach roll over in her gut and fought the urge to vomit. Shit! As it was, beads of sweat broke out on her forehead and her chest and neck felt like they were on fire. Oh god, oh god—it was her worst nightmare coming true!

"No it's okay," Lanie smiled at the girl whose face was quickly turning the shade of the red emergency lights on her police vehicle. "I think what you did was actually really sweet."

Kate shook her head and brought both hands up to cover her face. "How can you say that?! I'm a terrible person!"

Lanie almost laughed. "How can you be? You saved his life!"

"And then told his family I was his fiancée! I've never even spoken to him!" Her voice dripping with self-loathing, Kate let her arms dangle at her sides. Yep. She was definitely one of the worst people on the planet.

"If I recall correctly, that nurse is the one who called you Nick's fiancée—you just didn't deny it," Lanie said with a wry smile. At Kate's pitiful expression, Lanie gestured to the bedside chair. "Please sit. I want to tell you something."

Though she remained extremely skeptical, Kate sat down with her hands clamped down tightly on her knees. Lanie pulled up the other chair in the room and sat down beside Kate. "Okay, admittedly, lying about being Nick's fiancée probably wasn't the best thing you could have done, but it's not the worst, either."

Lanie's gaze drifted back towards Nick's pale and scruff covered face with the kind of longing Kate could never understand. "I've known this family since I was eight years old. They took me in when I was twelve."

Kate's eyebrows rose and she leaned back in her chair. "They took you in?"

Lanie nodded and turned back to her. "My mom worked in the same theater as Martha during one of her runs—my mom wasn't an actress. She worked backstage in the wardrobe department."

Kate nodded at this explanation. During Christmas dinner she had heard several stories about Martha's past as an actress. Evidently, in her prime she'd even been nominated for a Tony award. In more recent years, she'd put stage-life behind her and instead opened an acting school, teaching the craft she knew and well to starry-eyed youths of New York.

"She was a single parent and worked crazy hours. Martha and my mother became friends and Chet would keep me with the boys while my mom worked on show nights. Well…one night my mom didn't come home—brain aneurism; she collapsed during the second act," she explained with a muted smile.

"I never met my father…the only other relatives I had were my mother's parents in Louisiana, but I'd only met them twice. The Palaburn-Rodgers took me in, no questions asked. They adopted me, raised me no differently than they did their own boys, and even helped me with my tuition for nursing school. I can't even begin to explain to you how grateful I am to them for all of that."

For a moment, Kate merely stared at the girl. She understood so much of what Lanie had gone through, but not all of it. Her parents were both alive until she was legally an adult; she didn't have to face growing up without them; she couldn't fathom what that would be like. If Nick's family had taken Lanie in, they were even more amazing than she thought (which, naturally, caused her to feel even more guilt.)

"I…I'm sorry about your mother; I understand."

Lanie reached out and patted Kate's arm. "I know—and you lost both your parents. I don't mean to pry, but was it together?"

Kate shook her head. "No. I lost my mother first; I was nineteen."

Lanie nodded. Though she didn't know Kate's exact age, she would have been stunned if the girl was older than her mid-twenties, which meant she had lost both parents in a very short time period. She couldn't decide if that was better or worse than losing them together.

"That, um, that's truly incredible—what they did for you but…how does that have to do with my pretending to be Nick's fiancée?" Kate asked with a wrinkled brow after the nurse had been quite for several moments.

"Oh sorry—I'm getting to that," Lanie continued quickly. "The past few years…well, really, the past twelve months have been…tense—for the whole family. Nick was…well, Nick. Rick was off doing his own thing, in and out more than ever. But the truth is I haven't seen this happy or this together in a really long time and it's all because of you."

Kate felt her cheeks go hot again as she looked towards her lap. "Oh I don't think that's true."

"But it is," Lanie countered.

Kate raised her eye line, guilt souring her stomach once more. "But I'm lying to them."

Lanie leaned forward and rested her elbows on her thighs. "I know, but right now who is that lie hurting?" At Kate's disbelieving expression, she switched gears. "Look, just stick it out a few more days, okay? Nick will wake up and they'll be so happy they won't care if you just…fade away."

Kate's gaze drifted towards the man lying silently a few feet away. "And if Nick doesn't wake up?"

Lanie's gut clenched at the mention of her deepest fear. "The doctors seem optimistic that he will…but let's cross that bridge when we get to it."

Kate pulled at her bottom lip with her teeth. She had finally (yes, finally!) resolved herself to telling the truth. She'd even thought up several speeches in her head. Granted, she wasn't sure how she would run into the Palaburn-Rodgers again to give them said speech, but she knew when she did see them, she would give it. Now, with that whole thought process derailed, she didn't know what to think.

Sensing the younger woman's hesitation, Lanie raised one eyebrow. "Unless you have a better plan? Cause if you ask me, you didn't seem to be looking to escape Christmas dinner as much as you probably should have. I mean, they're my family and I love them—but even I can only take so much of Martha Rodgers."

Kate laughed then her expression fell serious. "I guess…I'd forgotten what it was like to be around a family. It was nice for a change."

Lanie nodded. "They're good people."

"I can tell."

"So what do you say Kate?"

Kate fought the urge to groan. What choice did she have? First, they welcomed her as the savior of their son's life. Now, with Lanie's explanation that Nick's accident and her presence had brought them all together like they hadn't been in years? How could she possibly say no?

"Okay fine…but this really can't go on for too much longer."

Lanie held up both her hands. "Absolutely. So are you free for dinner tomorrow? Mom wants us all to come over especially since we never know how long Rick will stay in town, but he's promised to be here until Nick wakes up."

"Oh, ah, oh-okay. My shift doesn't end until six but-"

"That's perfect," Lanie grinned. "Dinner is at seven—see you then!"

* * *

 _A/N_ : _Can I just say how much I love to see people's reviews that say how much they love the WYWS movie? I was concerned that the movie was too old and people wouldn't know what it was, but I'm so glad that's not true._

 _And now I'm off to Comic Con - Next update on Tuesday!_


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter Nine**

Arriving outside the Palaburn-Rodgers' apartment building shortly before seven on Monday evening Kate felt anything but confident. Despite receiving a text from Lanie a few hours earlier assuring her that everything would be fine, Kate could hardly believe that. The deeper she got in her lies, the more she struggled to remember. Plus, the more time she spent around Nick's family they were bound to ask her questions—questions she had no earthly idea how to answer. So much for relaxing after her shift…

"Oh, hey, great timing!" a familiar voice said to her once she'd stepped into the lobby.

Kate looked towards the elevators and spotted Rick waiting for the car to descend once more. Kate gave him a smile and offered a polite hello. Truth be told, she was not entirely comfortable being around Nick's brother. True, they had fun playing Cards Against Humanity after their belated Christmas meal, and he seemed like a nice enough guy, but he also appeared to be the most suspicious of her presence; that was what worried her.

"Actually, I'm glad I ran into you," Rick said as they stepped onto the elevator and he pushed the button for the seventh floor. "I kind of wanted to warn you about something."

Kate's gut clenched. "Oh?" she asked, trying to keep her voice evening.

"My grandmother's going to be at dinner tonight and she's…kind of a piece of work," he said with a laugh.

Kate thought a moment. "Is this your mother's mother? Clara?"

"Yeah, did Mother tell you about her? Or Lanie?"

Kate shook her head. "No, we've met. She was at the hospital the day of Nick's accident."

"Ah well, she was probably on her best behavior then if for no other reason than she was shocked. On a normal day…well, she's a lot to handle and the heart attack she had earlier this year didn't calm her down at all. If anything, it made her worse," he added with a laugh. "But, seriously, I kind of wanted to apologize in advance in case things got…weird."

Kate arched a single eyebrow. "Weird?"

Rick bobbed his head. "There's really no great way to say this, but Grandma doesn't particularly like Lanie. That is—she's never accepted Lanie into the family so there's usually a little bit of tension when those two are together."

Kate nodded. "I'm sorry to hear that. I actually ran into Lanie yesterday at the hospital and we talked about it briefly. She's been with you guys a long time."

"Yeah, ah, gosh… it's been at least twenty since we met her and about…ah, eighteen or so since her mom died. Wow," he chuckled. "Now I feel old."

Kate smiled at him.

"It's funny…for Nick and I, we kind of don't remember life before Lanie; she's just our sister. But Grandma always remember the day the black girl joined the family—sorry," he said quickly at her wide-eyed expression. "I don't mean to sound racist—that's just what Grandma says, so I don't want you to be shocked if-"

"I'm a cop, Rick; very little shocks me," she pointed out with a smile, though she was grateful that he warned her. She wouldn't have been shocked if she heard a comment along those lines from Clara, but she certainly would have been worried about reacting appropriately to it.

Rick let out a loud laugh as they stepped off the elevator together. "I can only imagine. Hey, you know, actually if you want to get on Grandma's good side you should share a few at dinner—the more offensive the better."

"I'll keep that in mind," she informed him, though she had every intention of keeping her racy stories to herself—at least, for the time being.

Rick let them both into the apartment and they were met immediately with the Palaburn-Rodgers welcoming party. This clan, Kate quickly learned, was full of huggers, but she didn't mind; it had been a long time since she had a bone-crushing motherly hug like the one Martha gave her. The only person from whom she did not receive a hug was Clara, but she didn't think anything of it. She was glad to see the matriarch was feeling well enjoy to join their dinner, but she didn't want to feel responsible for making the old woman exert herself any more than necessary.

"Kate, darling, I hope you like pot roast," Martha said as she ushered everyone into the dining room.

"Anything that's not a frozen dinner is great, thank you Martha." Kate informed her with a smile before taking the open seat between Rick and Lanie.

"Don't let her fool you—we eat our fair share of those around here," Chet told her with a wink, which earned him a smack to the back of his head from his wife.

"I don't blame you, Kate; I'm not a cook either," Lanie chimed in.

"Actually, my mom was a great cook and so I'm…okay," she told the group with a laugh. "I just don't have the time. Well, to be fair, I don't always take the time when I have it, but with my long shifts it's really just easier to grab something pre-made, sad as that sounds."

"Perfectly understandable," Rick assured her.

While Martha busied herself with the food, Chet took on the responsibility of passing out the drinks. After handing a glass of red wine to his daughter and a beer to his son, he turned to Kate. "What can I get you?"

"Oh this is fine, thank you," she told them, gesturing to the water glass already on the table.

"Don't be shy Kate; my parents have a well-stocked liquor cabinet," Rick told her with a teasing smile.

"Honestly, I'm fine right now; thank you," she promised them.

As the meal progressed, Kate learned that Chet had spent the first half of his career in a high-powered financial position. Then, after developing some health problems, he retired to take a more leisurely lifestyle which included freelance consultant and running the business end of his wife's acting school. He admitted that while it was quite a different of pace, he enjoyed his days much more and slept better every single night, making the change the best decision he ever made.

Inevitably, conversation drifted back to Nick, which Kate viewed to be a dangerous subject. Of course she wanted to hear all the Nicholas Rodgers stories his family would tell her—funny, embarrassing and everything in between. However, talking about Nick skirted around the dangerous subject of Nick-and-Kate, of which there remained no stories based in reality to tell.

As the subject began drifting towards their relationship, Kate was never so thankful that Lanie was in on their little secret. Just as she was thinking of a good way to deflect, Lanie jumped in a changed the subject, shooting her a small smile as she did so. While Kate was eternally grateful for this, she did make a quick exit after dinner using an early morning shift the following day as a truthful excuse.

"I'll tell you," Martha began as she watched her children clear the table once Kate had left. "I just like that girl more and more each time we see her. Nick finally picked a good one!"

"At least we finally know why they're engaged," Clara said with a knowing smile.

After draining her wine glass, Martha asked, "Why's that, Mother?"

"The girl's pregnant," Clara said in a tone that could not have been more matter-of-fact if she was reciting that day's weather forecast.

"Pregnant?" Chet asked, an eyebrow raised.

"Why would you think that?" Martha questioned.

"Yeah, Clara I don't think-"

But Lanie's protest was cut off by the old woman. "She didn't drink anything but water at dinner."

"That's hardly a reason," Rick rationalized from the doorway of the kitchen.

"Yes but remember—she only drank water during Christmas, too," Martha said, standing up, her mind whirling with possibilities. "That certainly would explain the quick engagement. And—oh! Remember? Remember how Nick kept saying us he had something to tell us, but he couldn't say it yet. This could have been it! Oh a baby!"

"Martha," Chet began warningly, staring down at his wife's tearful expression. "The girl might not be pregnant."

"Oh I know I know," she said, waving her hands in front of her eyes to dispel the tears. "But our first grandbaby Chet! And, you never know, it could be our only-"

"Hey!" Lanie and Rick replied in unison. "My god, Mother; we're not that old—it could still happen," Rick added, his tone displaying extreme annoyance, but his mother merely waved her hands and went into the kitchen in search of more wine.

* * *

 _A/N: Hi guys! Once again I want to thank you for being patient with my sporadic updates. As promised, I will post again on Thursday & Saturday then next week I'll return to the regular Wednesday/Saturday schedule. For those interested (or those who haven't seen my Tumblr on which I fangirled pretty hard) I met Nathan Fillion (again), Adam Baldwin, Michael Rooker & Milo Ventimiglia this weekend. SO EXCITING! Nathan Fillion even said I looked great in my costume, which, as you all know, means I can now die happy...there's also a video on YouTube of me asking a question at their panel. (I'm the one that asked Nathan about Fear the Walking Dead)._


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter Ten**

Rick Rodgers was a man on a mission.

Ever since the previous night at dinner, his mind spun around the possibility of Kate being pregnant with Nick's child. Though he knew his grandmother's reasoning for suspecting so was circumstantial at best and could easily be explained by several other factors, he just couldn't shake his suspicions that it might be true. After all, Kate's pregnancy might be the first thing that actually made sense about her relationship with Nick.

In Rick's mind Kate and Nick together just didn't add up. When he told her the prior Saturday that she didn't seem to be Nick's type, he meant it wholeheartedly. He had known his brother for nearly thirty years and Nick had never once shown any interest in any girl remotely like Kate.

Rick loved his brother in the same way that he loved Lanie; the irrevocable sibling kind of love. He would never not love his brother, but sometimes he didn't really like Nick. And he had yet to like one of Nick's girlfriends.

In Rick's mind, Nick was attracted almost exclusively to women Rick would classify as bubbleheads. That was to say: girls with not too much substance in the personality department. These women were beautiful in the society approved ways: large breasts, tiny waists, tan skin. They were also almost always blonde and, in his experience, had limited conversation skills—unless you were talking about shopping and spending money.

Nick's relationship with Gina was by far the exception to the rule he'd previously established. Yes Gina was blonde and had an ample cup size, but she was also extremely intelligent, which was the quality in her Rick found the most attractive. Ultimately, her other qualities, including shallowness and lack of compassion, caused the demise of their relationship ended, but Gina was one Rick would not classify as a bubblehead.

Kate, on the other hand, broke all the rules. She was beautiful, but in an organic, no-need-for-makeup way. She was smart and clearly incredibly strong if she had a career in law enforcement. She also did not seem the type that needed a man to complete or fulfill her existence. Thus, Rick was not so much surprised that Nick was attracted to her, but that she was attracted to him.

Maybe if it was a few years into the future—after Nick had gotten all the bachelor playboy desires out of his system. His brother could be a good man and Rick hoped he would be again, but in recent years all the money had gone directly to his head and caused him to make many stupid decisions and act like a complete and utter jerk.

It was plausible, he argued to himself, that Kate had been right. Maybe meeting her caused Nick to settle down; maybe it was love at first sight. That certainly wasn't impossible—it just wasn't likely. Thus couldn't shake the suspicion that his grandmother was right and that Kate was pregnant and that was why he arrived at the NYPD's twelfth precinct shortly after eleven a.m. on Tuesday.

Rick inquired at the welcome desk if Officer Kate Beckett was available or out on patrol. He waited for several moments, observing both the officers and the criminals passing through the lobby, before being told he could proceed up to vice on the second floor. Rick thanked the desk officer and then made his way to the elevator.

Stepping off on the second floor, Rick took a moment to observe his surroundings. Rick had never ventured this deep into a police station before owing to the fact that he had never been arrested or the subject of any investigations. He had interviewed a few officers throughout the course of his reporting career, but those interviews had either taken place on the street or in the lobby area.

The bullpen was, in a word, busy. Dozens of officers and detectives milled about, several of them leading around handcuffed suspects. Rick found the chaos intriguing, but knew he needed to continue on his mission. "Excuse me," he asked the closest officer: a tall Asian man. "Do you know where I can find Officer Beckett?"

"Pretty sure she's in there," he said, gesturing towards a doorway off to their left.

Rick thanked the man with a nod, and soon found himself entering what must have been a break room for it contained several tables, a couch along one wall, and a kitchenette with a refrigerator, microwave, and coffee pot. There, he found Kate standing by one of the tables, her shoulder-length brown hair tucked into a bun at the nape of her neck, dressed in her full police uniform. She was surrounded by two male colleagues; the three of them were laughing.

Rick cleared his throat. "Ah, excuse me, Kate?"

Her eyes shot to him and widened. "R-Rick? What are you doing here?" She walked away from her coworkers and stopped a few feet from him, her expression indicating shock as well as confusion.

"I, um, well I just…I wanted to talk to you and I was, um, well…" Any coherent thoughts he had were lost as he observed her. Navy blue, well-fitting uniform. Utility belt complete with flashlight, pepper spray and, most notably, a service pistol secured in its holster. Rick swallowed hard. "I just…is this job even safe?"

Confused by all his stammering, Kate's brow furrowed. "What? What are you talking about?"

"Should you be doing this when you're pregnant?" he asked her.

Her jaw fell an inch. "When I'm…what?" Had he just said pregnant!? Surely, she had heard him wrong. But what other word sounded like "pregnant"?

Much to her horror, the next voice Kate heard was not Rick's, but instead her colleague several feet away. "You pregnant Beckett? Why didn't you tell us!"

Kate shot her cohort a dangerous look. "I'm _not_ pregnant," she assured him. That definitely wasn't even possible. Turning back to Rick, she folded her arms over her chest and narrowed her gaze. He swallowed hard and took a step back. Good, that was very good. "You thought I was pregnant?"

"Uh…um…well, you see…"

Taking a step forward she challenged, "Why did you think I was pregnant?"

"Well, I, actually it was, see," Rick continued to stammer until he gave up and covered his face with his hands. "God I'm so sorry. Grandma thought and I just…Mother was…and we thought…Sorry?" he said again at her increasingly angry expression.

Kate took a step closer to him and lowered her voice. "I am not pregnant and I would appreciate it if you left; I'm still on duty."

"I, okay, god, I am so, so sorry Kate. Wait! I can make this up to you. Let me buy you a coffee. Ten coffees," he upped his offer at her perturbed look.

"As I said, I'm on shift and-"

"Just go get coffee, Beckett. Oh wait—can you have coffee when you're pregnant?" One of her colleagues chuckled as they walked by. Kate growled under her breath; great, she was going to be hearing about this for weeks!

She turned back to see a pitiful expression on Nick's brother's face. Finally glad she wasn't the only one wrought with guilt, she threw her hands up in defeat. "Fine, you can buy me coffee—but it has to be quick."

* * *

"Once again I am extremely, incredibly sorry," Rick said, passing over the Starbucks latte he purchased at the shop across the street from the precinct.

She took the cup with a grumbled thank you. "A shotgun wedding, huh? That's the only reason your brother would marry me?" She guessed, presuming that to be the Palaburn-Rodgers family reasoning. God, the discussion they must have had after she left the prior evening. Had she actually been engaged to Nick she would have been mortified.

"No, no—that's not it," Rick assured her. At Kate's persistent stare, he relented. "Okay, that's kind of it. It's just…Grandma noticed you weren't drinking alcohol and she thought that was the reason you and Nick were engaged. Mother thought the word 'grandbaby' and got extremely excited and the rest just kind of spiraled out of control."

Kate nodded and sipped her coffee, wondering where Lanie had been during this discussion and if she had fueled it on or attempted to diffuse it. "I see."

"It's just…you have to understand. For us, this is quite unexpected. Nick never seemed like he was looking for a serious relationship that would lead to marriage. It's very surprising. And without Nick here to talk about it-"

"Seems odd; I get it," she cut him off. Of course it seemed odd—it wasn't true! But, naturally, she couldn't say that to him. Well, she could have—very easily, in fact, but that would have opened up a larger discussion that she was not prepared to have when she had to return to work in less than five minutes.

Rick looked at her wearing a grimace. "I am very sorry. And I promise to tell my family that you're not pregnant, because you're not."

"No. I am not," she confirmed. Then, after scuffing her shoe against the sidewalk for several moments she told him, "My father was an alcoholic."

If given a year to think about it Kate wasn't sure she could have fully formulated her reasoning for revealing that truth to Nick's brother. She understood why the Palaburn-Rodgers family questioned her lack of alcohol consumption; most people did. In many situations she used the excuse that a family member had been an alcoholic, never naming which family member, and in general people did not ask too many questions after that. She didn't mind explaining her lack of drinking as it was an atypical thing to do but she didn't like speaking about it in great detail, which was why she surprised even herself by confessing to Rick.

Much to Kate's relief, he didn't pepper her with questions. Instead, he merely nodded and said, "I'm sorry to hear that."

They stood in silence for several more moments before Kate informed him she needed to be getting back to work. He walked her back to the precinct and asked, "Oh, hey. Tomorrow's New Year's Eve. Have any plans?"

Kate shrugged. "Working."

"In Time's Square?" he asked with a certain degree of intrigue.

She shook her head with a slight laugh. "No—thank god. I'm just on duty so I'll be inside keeping warm until we get a call…which we inevitably will."

"Right well…Happy New Year, Kate. And I'm sorry again about…being an asshole," he said with a guilty grimace.

For some reason, this unusual apology made Kate feel better. She smiled at him, thanked him for the coffee, and then hurried back inside bracing herself to face the teasing that would inevitably come from all the officers she worked with. Happy New Year indeed.


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter Eleven**

At the unpleasant hour of five-fifteen a.m. Kate Beckett left her apartment on Friday morning. As she usually did with mornings she worked the early shift, she had intentions to visit the precinct gym to run a few miles before going on duty. For some reason the run was much more effective at waking her up than several cups of coffee. Granted, by mid-morning, she needed the coffee too, but the run was certainly a more productive way to start the day.

That Friday, the very first of the new calendar year, Kate found herself drawn not toward the Twelfth, but instead towards Beth Israel. Inexplicably, she woke up that morning thinking about Nick and decided it would be a good idea to visit him on the way in to work.

Over a week had passed since his accident and he had been in a coma for the duration. Each update she heard from the doctors seemed positive; his brain and organ functioning were not deteriorating, they frequently told her. Still, she could not imagine many scenarios in which a coma lasting longer than a week could have a happy ending. True, she was not a medical professional, but she had seen her fair share of medical issues with both happy and sad endings.

At that early hour, one lone woman sat behind the nurse's station counter. Kate said a polite hello to her before walking the familiar path to Nick's room. Just a foot past the threshold, she stopped when she came face to face with another figure.

"Kate," Rick said with great surprise. He had fully expected to be visiting his brother alone at that predawn hour, but he could not say he was disappointed to see her.

"Rick. I ah…wow, what are you doing here? It's crazy early," she said with a laugh. If she did not need to be at work within the hour, she definitely would not have been awake.

"Ah, the life of a writer," he said with a laugh. "I'm a bit of an insomniac. Usually if I can't sleep I go for a walk or something, but this morning I found myself walking here."

He'd gone to bed at midnight, which was practically early by his standards, but been awake again by four a.m. He tossed and turned for twenty minutes before abandoning his bed and went in search for a notebook he had been writing in a few months prior. In doing so, he'd found an old photograph of himself and his brother when they were children and his thoughts had turned to Nick.

Before the accident, Rick had not spoken to his brother in several months. Nick had reached out on occasion, but Rick continually dodged his calls. His parents had made mention of it once or twice as well, but he'd brushed them off. He just wasn't ready to talk to Nick because he had no idea what he would say to him.

Despite the lingering animosity, Nick was his brother and Rick genuinely did not wish anything bad for him. Thus, hearing about Nick's accident was an upsetting blow. What if—god forbid—Nick never woke up? Their final words to each other would have been angry ones. They would never get the chance to settle their dispute all because Rick had been too stubborn to answer the phone. That's what tore him up.

"Well, I don't want to intrude; I'll just visit later," Kate promised. She turned to leave the room, but he stopped her.

"Hey wait. I, um, I feel like we just keep getting off on the wrong foot and that's probably mostly my fault," he said with a guilty smile. If he could not make his peace with Nick, he decided he at least had to try with his fiancée. At least she was conscious and thus able to talk to him. "I mean, we're going to be family, right? Let me buy you breakfast."

"I'm sorry; I have to be a work soon," Kate explained simply.

"Right, right…well, what time is your shift over? I can meet you." It wasn't like he had any other plans that day except for perhaps a nap.

"Ah, um," she stammered, glancing down at the watch she wore, not exactly trying to buy herself time, but grateful for the moment to think anyway.

Sensing her hesitation, Rick backtracked. "Sorry, didn't mean to put you on the spot. Just trying to be nice since I've been kind of a shitty almost brother-in-law."

The embers of guilt in her gut growing to a full flame, she said quickly, "No, no I was just trying to think of my schedule today. I get off at three so I can meet you at three fifteen?" she offered. Truth be told, she wanted to spent a limited amount of one-on-one time with members of the Palaburn-Rodgers clan so she could keep her lies at a bare minimum, but as long as she kept their meeting short and their conversation focused on him it wouldn't be that bad…right?

A smile grew on his face. "Great! I'll meet you outside your precinct."

* * *

Nine hours later, the absolute last thing Kate wanted to do was interact with anyone. She wanted to go home, soak in a bubble bath, and not move from her couch for the rest of the evening. Hell, she was even contemplating not eating dinner as it required too much effort. Yet, she did not have that option. She had a predetermined get-to-know you date with her fake future brother-in-law. With no means to contact him, she couldn't even cancel so she plastered a smile on her face and headed out of the employee locker room, silently praying that despite her exhaustion she'd be able to keep all her lies straight.

Stepping out onto the city sidewalks, she looked to her left and right, worried she would be unable to find him, but he was easy to spot. Leaning against a parking meter a few feet away clad in jeans and heavy winter coat he smiled at her and waved. "Hey…so coffee?" he offered her with a smile.

She let out a breathy laugh. "Actually, with the day I had I kind of just want a big bowl of ice cream."

"I can do ice cream." He nodded for her to follow him and led the way up the nearest cross street. "Any particular flavor?"

"Mint chocolate chip is my usual go-to," she confessed.

"Ah, yeah I'm not a mint fan," he said.

"Really?"

"Well, not in foods. I can handle it in gum and toothpaste, but I don't like eating it," he told her.

"Interesting," she nodded then hurried along with him as they crossed the next street.

"I know this great place—it's a little bit of a hike, though. Want to get a cab?" he offered.

She considered the air temperature, which despite being the second day of January was not all that bad. "How far?"

"Maybe a fifteen minute walk?" he guessed.

"Walking's fine."

Truthfully, the walk would give her a little more time to clear her head. Though she had hoped to do so in quiet, halfway across the next block he asked her, "Rough day, huh? Guess you probably have your fair share of those in your line of work."

"I suppose. Usually you can at least find some silver lining in them—helping people, catching whoever wronged them…." And then there were days like that one: a ten year old girl hit and killed by a texting driver whose vehicle jumped the sidewalk. There was no silver lining in that.

Much to Kate's relief, the remainder of their walk was mostly silent. Just as she was really beginning to feel the chill in her extremities, they reached their destination: a family owned ice cream shop tucked away between two larger chain stores. Had Kate been walking down the sidewalk alone she probably would have missed it, but Rick was clearly a regular; they knew him by name behind the counter.

While Kate chose a single scoop of the mint chocolate chip, Rick ordered the chocolate chip cookie dough with sprinkles in a cone with a chocolate coating. Though they intended to eat their ice cream inside the store, they had been sitting at one of the tiny two-seater tables for barely a few minutes before half a dozen school children blasted through the door laughing and chattering on loudly.

Sensing some tension from Kate, Rick suggested they take their treats outside and hopefully find another place to eat. She agreed, and they made their way out the door past another group of pre-teens. If possible, this group was even rowdier than the first and in their enthusiasm jostled Rick so much that his ice cream cone mashed into Kate's shoulder, coating her coat and the ends of her hair in the milky dessert.

"Oh my god, I am so sorry," he proclaimed immediately. Great, just great. First, he questioned her relationship with his brother. Then, he inadvertently told her coworkers she was pregnant when she actually was not, and now he'd covered her with ice cream! How was that even possible?

"It's okay," she sighed, wiping at the ends of her hair with the napkin she held. She had already been planning to take a bath when she got home and her coat would recover. "Wasn't your fault."

"I know, I know, but Jesus I'm such a mess… why don't you come to my place and clean up?" he offered.

Her eyes darted up towards him at the unexpected invitation. "Oh no it's not that bad. Really."

"I literally live a block away. It's the least I can do. Please?"

Kate gazed down at her hair and coat, blowing out air between her lips. The damage wasn't that bad and of course she could have made it to her apartment (as unpleasant of a subway ride as that would have been) but, as long as he was offering… "Sure, why not."

His face relaxing with relief, Rick led the way towards Broome Street.

* * *

 _A/N_ _: Oh Rick... :)_


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter Twelve**

Kate had to admit the moment she walked into Rick's spacious apartment she was impressed…and confused. The apartment was at least twice the size of hers if not larger, but she could barely afford the monthly payments on her modest place with her civil servant salary. If Rick truly was a freelance sports writer it seemed unlikely that he made more money than her.

She had similar thoughts about the Palaburn-Rodgers apartment. It wasn't the most spacious she'd ever seen; however, it was in a prime real estate location—prime being a chosen word for "extremely expensive." Once she heard about Chet's profession it made a little more sense, but she could not help but wonder if Nick had not contributed some of his earnings to his parent's living quarters. If that was the case, perhaps he had done the same with his brother. A smile grew on her face at the realization that her favorite writer was even more thoughtful than she originally realized.

After taking a few minutes in Rick's bathroom, Kate considered herself reasonably put back together after the ice cream incident. She made her way back out to the main sitting area while he retrieved them two bottles of water. Unlike his brother's apartment, Rick's felt much homier with a soft leather couch, cherry wood end tables stacked with books, and an overstuffed brown chair that would have been perfect to curl up and read a book in.

Had she been in such a mood, Rick's apartment had dozens if not hundreds of titles to choose from. In fact, one entire wall was all book cases stuffed to the brim. Smiling even more, Kate walked over to investigate. On the topmost shelf, just like in his brother's home, she found each of Nick Rodger's eleven titles. Only unlike his brother, Rick had multiple copies of each.

When she heard footsteps behind her, Kate turned to her companion with an embarrassed smile. "Sorry, I was snooping."

"Looking at a bookshelf isn't snooping," he promised. "Now if I had found you going through my sock drawer…"

Kate laughed. "It's just nice to see that you support your brother so much."

"Ah," Rick said, glancing at the titles and then looking away. "Yeah…something like that."

Kate's brow furrowed. His tone sounded odd when coupled with the words he spoke, though she could not quite put her finger on why. "What does that mean?"

He was silent for a moment, standing firm without looking at her. When he did turn his head in her direction, his brow was creased and his lips pressed tightly together. "This is probably going to sound like a really weird question but: Nick…Nick didn't talk about me much, did he?"

Kate felt her cheeks grow hot. Shit! A question she had no truthful way to answer leading to a subject she absolutely did not want to discuss. "Well, I um, I'm not really…I."

Interpreting her stammering as avoidance of an awkward topic he shook his head gently. "It's okay. You don't have to lie for him."

Kate let out a long exhale and slumped her shoulders. His tone sounded so sad that she didn't want to make an excuse and run out of his apartment. Using what little information she'd gleaned from Lanie she said, "Well, ah, I know you two aren't on the best of terms…"

Rick let out a bark of laughter. "That's one way to put it. Jesus—he's unbelievable!" Now frustrated, Rick began pacing the area in front of his couch. "Did he mention me at all? Did he talk about any of us? I mean, god, do you even know we're half-brothers?"

Kate could not have felt more surprise if Rick had slapped her across the face. "H-half-brothers? No…no I'm sorry I-"

Rick let out a long exhale and turned away from her again. "God I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have… I guess I'm always apologizing to you, huh?" he said with a bitter laugh. "Just…just forget it. This is between Nick and I and…yeah."

Though she should have used this opportunity to escape, Kate found herself moving not towards the door, but towards the broken looking man standing in the center of the apartment. The movement was beyond her control; she just couldn't leave him.

"Actually," she began, stepping up beside him and pausing until he looked at her. "If you want to talk about it, I'm a pretty good listener. I mean, you're the one that said we should get to know each other better if we're going to be family, right?"

His pitiful expression gave her a 'You don't have to do this' vibe, but she steadily held his gaze, refusing to move an inch. Finally, he relented and sat down on the couch. She joined him and sat with her hands clasped in her lap. "So, half-brothers, huh?"

Rick skimmed his fingers over his lips and nodded. "Yeah…yeah, ah my mom married Chet when I was about three. Nick came along a year later."

"Do you see your biological father much?"

He let out a laugh and leaned back against the sofa cushions. "I actually don't even know his name."

Kate's eyes widened with surprise. "You're kidding?"

"No. I would ask Mother about it now and then as a child, but she never explained until my eighteenth birthday. It was a whirlwind romance, she said. Which, I suppose, is something you're familiar with—except this one only lasted one night," he explained.

Kate nodded slowly, considering this. She could not even begin to fathom growing up without knowing one of her parents. Not having them in her day to day life would be hard enough, but not knowing who they were? Not even a name? She couldn't even comprehend what that would be like; having a piece of yourself missing. Knowing your life contained a mystery you would never be able to solve.

"Wow, ah, that must have been hard for you."

He shrugged and tried to lighten the mood with a smile. "Ah well it's not like I never had a father figure. I can't remember a time when Chet wasn't around. He played ball with me and taught me how to shave—all those pivotal dad things."

Kate nodded, though she could sense his hesitation. Almost as though he was saying that Chet treated his biological son differently than his adopted one, but of course she didn't want to ask if that was the case. Sensing a topic change would help the conversation she asked, "So what were you and Nick like growing up? Were you close?"

"Ah well, you know…siblings have their ups and downs."

"Actually," she began, leaning back against the couch, "I don't know. Only child—remember?"

"Oh right, right—sorry I forgot," he said quickly. She waved her hand casually, indicating it didn't matter. "Well, like any brothers we were good friends one minute and fighting over video games the next. We were far enough apart that we had completely different circles of friends… I guess…I guess the closest we ever were was when I went off to college and Nick was still in high school. He used to say that he only realized how much he actually liked me after I was gone."

Kate laughed as that sounded like a very sibling thing to say. "So, where did you go to school?"

* * *

Neither Kate nor Rick could believe how quickly the next hour passed. In fact, they may not have noticed how late it was getting at all were they not interrupted by a loud growl from Rick's stomach. He suggested ordering take-out and she didn't hesitate to agree as she thoroughly enjoyed each and every story about the Rodgers boys and their youthful misadventures.

As they sat at his dining room table, ate and continued their conversations, Kate realized it wasn't just the stories themselves she enjoyed, but the way he told them. Rick had a real flair for drama and emphatic expression that truly brought his stories to life. She felt immersed in each and every one of them and probably could have listened all night.

Finally, just before eight, a full four hours after she arrived, Kate decided that she needed to get home and get herself ready for the next day, which unfortunately had another early shift. She thanked Rick for both the stories and the food while pulling on her jacket and zipping up her boots.

"Thanks for listening," he echoed. "You know, you are actually quite good at that."

"So I've been told," she smiled.

He folded his arms over his chest as he gazed at her. "Nick's very lucky to have you; I hope he knows that."

"Yeah," she said, dropping her gaze toward her feet. "I hope he does too."


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter Thirteen**

By Monday, Kate had fallen in to what she considered her new schedule, which involved regular visits to the hospital and the daily feeding of a white Persian, which was really growing quite friendly (granted, the fact that Kate was the feline's only source of food probably aided with that). That afternoon, sitting at her desk at the Twelfth precinct, filling out boring paperwork on her mugging arrest from earlier in the day, Kate found herself in need of a break. She sighed and lazily stared across the bullpen, propping her chin up on her fist, until she spotted two officers chatting and tossing a tennis ball between them. For whatever reason, this made her think of Rick.

As the prior two weeks had been quite eventful, she had never actually taken the time to Google him or seek out any of his works. Surely if he was a reporter as he said, he had to have some sort of website. Or, at the very least, searching for his name would bring up some of his articles.

She paused for a moment with her mouse curser above the search bar. Professionally, did he go as Rick Rodgers or Richard Rodgers? She wasn't sure. The first sounded more like a name a sports reporter would use, but the second seemed more professional for a more serious byline. Deciding to go with her gut she typed "Rick Rodgers news" into the search engine.

Happily, she immediately discovered half a dozen of his articles on the same college sports news website. As college sports were not something she followed too closely, Kate had never heard of the site before, but she clicked on the links and skimmed through the article titles. As the most recent articles were displayed first, the majority of what displayed on her screen was about college basketball.

Of all the sports, basketball was more towards the bottom of Kate's ranking from favorite to least. If forced to choose, she preferred college basketball over the NBA, but even that wasn't saying much. Truthfully, the only time she paid any attention to articles about basketball was during March Madness. Being in a male-dominated work environment, she filled out a bracket each year though never anticipated winning. At that point in January, she doubted she could name the ten best teams that year if her life depended on it.

Despite having a limited interest, Kate did read through a few of the articles Rick wrote simply because he was the author. She found that she liked his writing style; it reminded her of his brother's: full of description, imagery and, most importantly, good grammar.

After spending the better part of ten minutes perusing his articles, Kate was about to return to her arrest report when she noticed she had a text message from Lanie inviting her to dinner at the Palaburn-Rodgers that night. In the message, she described it as another family tradition. Kate considered the comment a moment, but ultimately decided she had no idea to what tradition Lanie could possibly be referring. Kate decided to ask and, after a few minutes, received the vague response: _"You'll have to come and see._ "

With one curious eyebrow arched, Kate set down her phone and turned back to her report.

* * *

"Pizza!? You invited us over for a big family dinner and you ordered pizza!?" Rick was scandalized when he walked into his parents' apartment and found not the expected meat and vegetable dish, but instead meat and vegetables…with cheese and sauce atop round dough—in a cardboard box, no less.

"She also ordered a Caesar salad if you're watching your figure," Lanie teased. Rick shot her a look, but she laughed it off.

"We have a busy night ahead of us, darling and I didn't want any more distractions than necessary," Martha explained simply to her son before disappearing into the other room.

Rick eyed his father warily. "She got caught up at the acting studio and didn't have time to make dinner?" he guessed.

"Mmm," Chet nodded. "But sometimes I wonder if there really was a student in _desperate_ need of her guidance or she just wanted an excuse for takeout."

Rick gave his father a knowing expression before loading his place with a slice of each of the three types of pizza before them. When he returned to the living area with his pizza in one hand and a beer in the other, he found his mother greeting a last minute guest with a warm hug. "Kate!" he gasped, then shot his mother an accusatory look. "I cannot believe you invited Kate to this!"

Taken aback by his tone, Kate blinked. "I-I'm sorry. Lanie invited me and-"

"Don't worry, darling," Martha began, patting her arm. "I asked Lanie to invite you. Now, go get yourself some pizza." She waved Kate off in the direction of the kitchen before disappearing down the hallway that led to the bedrooms.

Still confused, Kate shrugged off her jacket and walked into the dining room where she found Lanie loading her plate with salad and a slice of pepperoni. "What's going on?" Kate asked her in a hushed voice. "Why doesn't Rick want me here?"

"I didn't say I don't want you here," he said from behind her, causing her to jump. "I said you shouldn't be here."

"We're cleaning up the Christmas decorations," Lanie explained upon taking note of Kate's incredibly perplexed expression.

"Oh." Kate let out a relieved laugh and set down her jacket and purse. She had immediately panicked that she had intruded on a secret family meeting, but it was not surprising that this family overdramatized the situation; that tendency seemed to be encoded in their DNA.

"And you absolutely do not have to help," Rick assured her.

Kate picked up a plate and napkin from one end of the table before surveying the pizza selection in front of her. "Oh no that's okay—I don't mind."

Rick shot her a skeptical look before walking out into the sitting area. When Kate and Lanie joined him he made one more attempt. "Mother, tell Kate she does not have to help us."

"Seriously I don't mind," Kate chimed in quickly.

Martha shot her son a proud expression before turning back to the box in which she was delicately loading the manger display.

Rick turned to Kate and told her in a hushed voice, "If you think of something better to do, feel free to leave. And, let's be honest, just about anything is better than this."

Kate playfully narrowed her eyes at him. "Sounds like you're the one who wants to leave." He tapped the tip of his nose and then pointed at her, indicating she was correct. She merely laughed and continued to eat her pizza.

* * *

An hour later, Kate and Rick had worked together to strip the Christmas tree bare of its ornaments and other decorations. Rick loaded the smaller boxes of ornaments into a larger storage box while Kate collected remaining bits of tinsel and threw them in a garbage bag as Martha had instructed. As they took apart the tree, they had laughed and chatted about various things and even had a brief but entertaining battle of tossing tinsel at each other and attempting to get it stuck in the other's hair.

With Lanie and Martha wrapping and putting away the individual figurine decorations and Chet manning the collection and archiving of lights, they had almost the entire apartment de-Christmas-ized in no time. Though Rick had continually told her she could leave, Kate did not mind sticking it out at all; it was certainly a more entertaining way to spend her evening than searching for a movie she had yet to watch on Netflix.

"Oh, could one of you work on the decorations in the entryway?" Martha asked when she notice the tree was bare.

Kate and Rick began walking towards the hall, then looked at each other and laughed. "Together?" Rick suggested. Kate bobbed her head and walked directly toward the garland decoration hanging above the hall mirror. When she turned to find its box, she bumped directly into Rick as they met in the center of the hall. Their laugh drew the attention of the others in the apartment.

"Oh look—one last mistletoe kiss of the season," Martha smiled and nodded towards the ceiling.

In unison, Kate and Rick lifted their gaze to spot the sprig of greenery hanging off the hall's light fixture.

Rick turned to his mother and grumbled. "It's after Christmas—there are no mistletoe rules for that."

Martha dropped her hands to her sides dramatically. "Well of course there are, darling."

"I'm not kissing Kate," he protested. Then, upon glancing back to the woman beside him and realizing her expression indicated she wished to be invisible, he continued in an attempt to soften the blow. "I mean, that would be completely inappropriate since she's Nick's fiancée."

"My god Rick—it's just a kiss," Lanie chimed in.

Kate fought to keep her jaw from dropping. What was Lanie doing? She knew the truth! She knew—oh. Wait. Lanie knew that Kate was not actually engaged to Nick, so perhaps that's why she encouraged their kiss? Because, ultimately, there would be no harm in it? But, to keep their cover, Lanie couldn't say that directly. Or so she guessed.

Turning her gaze back to Rick, she said quietly. "It's okay—wouldn't want to upset tradition."

He gave her a meek smile before leaning down and pressing his lips against hers for possibly one or two seconds longer than he should have. When he heard his mother's proclamation of, "Bravo!" he jumped back and laughed, "Better take this down before anyone else is forced to kiss me."

"Yeah," Kate replied in a vacant tone, her lips still tingling, "wouldn't want that…"

* * *

Several blocks away in the ICU at Beth Israel Medical Center, Nick Rodgers opened his eyes for the first time in eleven days. He blinked rapidly towards the ceiling, wondering where he was, what was going on and why the hell his head hurt so much. He turned his head to the side and spotted the heart and oxygen monitors as well as the hanging IV fluid bag. Hospital. He was in a hospital. He needed to call for a nurse but…

That was his final thought before he was pulled back into slumber.

* * *

 _A/N: and now the real fun begins :)_


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter Fourteen**

Rick Rodgers was in trouble—oh so very much trouble.

He had known more or less from the moment he met her, but as they were completely and entirely inappropriate, he maintained a healthy (well, unhealthy) denial about his feelings. After kissing her, though, he knew he had to admit the truth to himself.

Rick Rodgers had feelings for his brother's fiancée.

No—no. They weren't feelings. It was a crush, just a crush.

If he thought about it rationally, everything made sense. He was attracted to her physically, which was in no way a crime. To him, everything about her face was gorgeous from her pink lips to her sharp cheekbones and the chocolate brown eyes he wished to stare into for days. Physical attraction was one thing; that could easily be categorized into the "crush" category.

Several nights earlier—the evening they conversed and ate dinner together at his apartment—was the evening things began to change. Even still, though, he could explain it. He was in an emotionally vulnerable place, he talked, she listed and it felt like they connected, which they had—as friends. That was all; no more. She was going to be his sister-in-law, so naturally they should be friends.

And then that damn mistletoe.

As quickly as he could after _the kiss_ , Rick made his escape from his parents' apartment, mentally berating himself for falling to peer pressure and going through with the kiss. In the moment, he didn't think it would be that bad. He honestly thought it would be a good thing. Kiss her and prove that his feelings were just were a manifestation of their developing friendship; that they weren't true, romantic feelings. The worst part was their kiss was the most basic and unromantic of a kiss there could be; the thought of something more salacious was both terrifying and intriguing to him.

Standing in the kitchen of his apartment, his palms resting flat against the kitchen counter, glass of whisky between them, Rick knew exactly what he needed to do. He needed to move past his feelings for Kate by whatever means possible. She was his brother's fiancée and thus completely, one hundred percent off limits to him. Granted, that was easier said and done.

Finishing his drink with one burning gulp, he made his way across the apartment to his laptop. An evening like that one could lead to only one outcome: he needed to write.

* * *

The shrill ring of his cell phone pulled Rick from slumber. Grumbling to himself, he forced his body upright and groped for the phone. That ring tone only belonged to one person—the only woman who would call him at—dear god—five fifty-eight in the morning.

"Mother," he yawned into the phone. "Wh's goin' on?"

"He's awake! He woke up!"

Rick froze and his eyes popped open wide. "What?"

"Nick is awake! Get to the hospital right away!"

* * *

Forty minutes later, extra-large take-away cup of coffee in his hand, Rick walked the familiar path to the ICU at Beth Israel. Unlike each of his previous visits, Rick's stomach swirled with uncertainty and no small amount of dread. This would be the first time he was in the same room as his (conscious) brother in four months and he had absolutely no idea what was going to happen.

With an extra deep breath and a slow exhale, Rick stepped into the room and found his family. His grandmother seated in a chair, beaming and grasping tightly to Nick's left hand. Lanie stood just behind her dabbing her cheeks with a tissue. His mother sat on Nick's right side gripping onto his arm as though it was her only tether after falling overboard into a choppy sea. She was, of course, sobbing. Standing just behind her Chet also appeared a bit misty. Nick was the only one in the room with a placid expression, though Rick chalked that up to the drugs he was on.

When Rick cleared his throat, the five pairs of eyes in the room descended upon him. Nick smiled at him and Rick couldn't help but furrow his brow. Due to the near two week duration of his coma, Nick had acquired quite a beard, which was atypical for him; Rick couldn't recall the last time he saw his brother with more than a day or two of facial growth. Otherwise, he looked relatively normal.

"Hey," Rick said breathily.

"Hey," Nick echoed.

At this exchange, a fresh onslaught of tears began pouring down Martha's cheeks. "Oh my boys! My boys!"

Ignoring his blubbering mother for the moment, Rick asked, "You feeling ok?"

"My head hurts like a bitch, but I think I'm all here, yeah," Nick replied.

Before Rick could open his mouth again, the newest member of their clan skidded into the room behind him. "Came as fast as I could. I was just about to go on shift and…" Her voice was lost once the members of the Palaburn-Rodgers clan focused their attention on her and her full police uniform.

For a solid thirty seconds, no one said anything. Then, Nick groaned. "Mom, why did you call the cops?"

Martha chuckled and blotted her cheeks with a Kleenex. "Very funny, Nicholas."

Kate stood frozen just beyond the doorway. Nick was awake. Nick was awake!

In itself that was great news. He had finally come out of his coma which most likely meant he would make a full recovery, which was wonderful. Yet, if Nick was awake, Nick would surely be able to explain to his family that he was not, in fact, engaged to her.

Shit.

Had Kate known that Nick was awake, she probably would not have rushed to the hospital. Actually, she wouldn't have gone at all. She would have assumed Nick would set the whole thing straight and never made another appearance in the lives of his family again. This, she presumed, was why Lanie left that little detail out of her early morning _ASAP!_ text message.

Nick looked from his mother to the police officer wearing the deer-in-headlights expression. "I…don't understand. What's going on here?"

"What's going on?" Chet laughed. "I would have thought you'd want to give a proper hello to your fiancée after all this time."

Nick's heart rate jumped and the monitor in the room began beeping loudly. "My _what_?"

"Your fiancée," his mother repeated. "Honestly, Nicholas, there's no reason to play stupid; we all know about Kate."

"Who is Kate?!"

"That's Kate," his brother replied, thumbing in the police officer's direction. Nick's bewildered eyes fell on her and Kate immediately felt as though she was going to vomit. "Don't you remember her?" Rick asked.

"Oh god," Martha gasped, clutching her hands to her chest. "He has amnesia!"

Martha's final word—and official medical term—felt like an electric shock to Kate's spine. She took a step so that she stood in front of Rick and said quickly. "Oh no, I really-"

"Amnesia?" Nick interrupted her, looking back to his mother. "I…I don't think I have amnesia."

"I don't think you would know, son," Chet said wisely, clapping a hand on his son's shoulder.

"Okay, okay," Martha said, collecting herself with a deep breath and wiping the tears from her cheeks with her index fingers. "Let's go through this slowly and maybe it'll come back. Nicholas, Kate is your fiancée. She-"

"Holy shit—hold on," Nick said, sitting up a bit straighter as though the definition of the word "fiancée" had just been processed through his clouded mind. "I'm not engaged. I don't…I'm not…what day is this again? H-how long was I out?"

Noticing how visibly upset the writer was getting, Kate felt tears pricking at the edge of her eyes. She took a step back and nearly ran into Rick, who moved quickly out of her way. "I-I should go."

"No, darling it's okay, we'll get this straightened out," Martha assured her. Then, she turned to her daughter. "Lanie, will you please go and find his doctor?"

After Lanie bobbed her head and disappeared, Kate took another step towards the door muttering, "I just…I'm going to…," but when she felt a hand close gently around her arm, she stopped.

"You don't have to go, Kate," Rick told her softly.

A tear rolling down her cheek, she looked up at him. "I don't want to upset him."

"But he needs his family here."

 _And I'm not family,_ she answered silently. To him, she merely shook her head and hurried out into the hall.

Once she was safely tucked away in a corner of the ICU, Kate leaned back against a wall, coved her face with her hands, and took several deep breaths. It was going to be okay; she was going to get through this. Mostly likely, she would not get through this without crying in front of the entire Palaburn-Rodgers family, but that was just something she needed to accept. Everything had to come out in the open—now.

"Kate?"

Her eyes popped open to see—most thankfully—the one person she could be honest with. "Lanie! Oh my god, Lanie!"

Sensing hyperventilation coming on, Lanie carefully stroked Kate's arms. "Calm down, Kate. It's okay."

Kate shook her head as a hiccup of tears escaped her lips. "Lanie, I have to tell them. I have to—right now."

"No, you don't."

Horrorstruck, Kate blurted, "Yes, yes I have to. I know Clara is here, but maybe I can just tell your parents away from her and-"

"Kate, listen," Lanie began in a soothing tone. "Relax. Everything is fine. Just give it a day or two—let Nick see what a great person you really are."

Kate nearly choked. "Great person!? I'm a terrible person! They're misdiagnosing him and-"

"A day or two of a confused memory is not misdiagnosing someone with a head trauma," Lanie explained matter-of-factly. "Before you got here he was telling everyone that he doesn't remember the accident. He doesn't even remember leaving his apartment on Christmas Eve morning."

While that did make the case for amnesia, Kate still refused to go along with Lanie's idea. "But according to this whole scheme I've cooked up this would be like him not remembering _months_ of time."

Lanie smiled reassuringly at her. "Kate, I'm telling you its fine. Now, you have to get to work, right?" she asked. When the officer nodded distantly, Lanie continued. "Good. Now you go ahead and I'll keep you updated with texts during the day, okay? It's going to be fine, Kate; you'll see."


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter Fifteen**

When Nick's doctor arrived and discovered his gaps in memory, he ushered the Palaburn-Rodgers family out so that they could do a full exam and run tests if necessary. They all collected in the hall shooting each other distraught glances for several moments before Lanie suggested they get breakfast as there was nothing that could be done while the doctors were still looking at Nick. Without much room to argue, the familial group piled into the elevator and made their way to the closest breakfast-serving establishment.

An hour later while his parents were off calling every contact in their respective phones to report the joyous news, Rick wandered back to the ICU, hoping to have a moment alone to speak with his brother. There were things that needed said and he preferred not to have an audience when he said them (particularly if that audience included their mother.)

Thankfully, when Rick walked into his brother's ICU room, the famous writer was alone in the room, lying in the bed propped at a forty-five degree angle. His eyes closed. Thinking he may have been a sleep, Rick turned to leave, but stopped when he heard a sluggish, "Ricky?"

Rick spun around, smile on his face. "So what's the verdict? Did the docs tell you that you have permanent brain damage? Because I could have saved them the trouble by confirming that myself."

"Very funny," Nick smirked. "Actually, they're not sure what's going on yet. They're taking me for some head scan in about an hour."

Rick nodded and walked a bit further into the room. "Listen, ah, there's some things I'd like to say, some things I'd like you to hear, but nothing we need to talk about right now. You need to rest and focus on getting better. Then, once you're back at home we can talk."

Nick gazed at his sibling and bobbed his head appreciatively. "Sounds like a plan. I…I'm glad you're here."

"Where else would I be?" Rick asked seriously. "You're my brother and I love you—that will never change."

Nick grinned. "Ditto."

Rick's expression mirrored his for a moment then he nodded his head towards the door. "I'm gonna…let you rest."

"No wait," Nick stopped him. Rick arched an eyebrow at him. "I just…I need to ask you about that girl—the cop."

"Kate." Rick corrected. "Your _fiancée._ "

"Yeah seriously—I'm engaged!?" Nick shook his head as thought trying to rid himself of the responsibility from that action alone. "When did that happen?"

"Dunno." Rick replied honestly. "You didn't tell any of us about it—not even Mother. Kate says it's been a few months, but she hasn't been any more specific than that. Just as fair warning: Mother is definitely going to ask you why you kept this from her and you know she won't care if you have amnesia or not, so you'd better prepare an answer."

Nick laughed and rubbed his hands over his face. "Wish I could…so, uh, what's she like?"

Rick's brow furrowed. Was his brother seriously asking for a rundown of his own fiancée? "How do you mean?"

"You know—what's she like. I mean…she's a cop…"

Nick's tone made it sound as though her profession was as undesirable as being a public bathroom janitor or a garbage man. Rick's knee-jerk reaction was to jump to Kate's defense, but he recognized the sensation as being quite peculiar. If Nick was Kate's fiancé, shouldn't the situation have been reversed? Shouldn't he be preaching Kate's praises?

He doesn't remember, Rick reminded himself. As far as Nick knows, he and Kate have never met.

"Well, first of all you should know that she saved your life," Rick said, standing at the edge of his brother's bed and resting both hands on the bed's frame.

Nick's eyes widened. "She did?"

Rick nodded. "When those assholes mugged you, you were knocked down on to the train tracks in front of an oncoming train. She jumped down and saved you."

"Oh god…"

"Yeah," Rick continued. "She's…extraordinary." He surprised himself with the descriptor, but the more he thought about it, the more accurate it seemed. If he knew nothing else about her, her selfless act to save his brother made her a hero in his mind, but Rick did know more about her. She was kind and generous and had a smile he believed would melt even the coldest of hearts.

Granted, none of those facts helped to dispel his feelings for her. They actually made it much worse…but, he was working on it.

"Yeah, but what's she _like_?" Nick asked, a slight whine to his voice.

Rick rolled his eyes slightly; he hated when his brother sounded like a five-year-old. "I dunno, Nick—we only met her the day of your accident; it hasn't even been two weeks! And it's not like I saw her every day in that time."

"Which, at this point, is a hell of a lot more than I remember of her," Nick said pointedly.

Rick sighed and rounded his shoulders. "Fine she's…she's interesting. Friendly and polite, but guarded. Quiet and seems overwhelmed by mother—though, to be fair, who isn't? But when you get her alone she's quite insightful and a very good listener."

Nick arched a skeptical eyebrow at his brother. "Sounds like you two spent a lot of time together."

The elder brother shrugged, trying to keep things causal. "We had dinner a few times—as a family."

"Mom likes her?"

"Everyone does."

Nick nodded and skimmed his fingertips against the stubble on his chin. "Tell me more."

Rick let out an exasperated huff. Oh. Right. This was what conversations with Nick were like. He definitely did _not_ miss this. "The last thing I'm going to say is that if you proposed to the woman, you obviously did so for a good reason." He let that comment hang in the air for a moment before he witnessed his brother's eyes widen and his lips form an "O" shape. "She's not pregnant," he added preemptively.

Nick shut his lips. "How do you know?"

"We…went down that road last week," he said, pinching the bridge of his nose at that embarrassing memory.

"Oh…so, then, like…I love her?" Nick asked in an expectant tone, as though his brother would really provide the answer.

"That's probably a safe conclusion." Rick nodded. He turned to leave but then paused. "She really is an amazing woman, Nick; you're very lucky to have her."

Nick smiled back at his brother knowing that for the time being he'd have to take his word for it.

* * *

She could do this. She could absolutely do this. She totally could do this…right?

Kate Beckett stopped dead in her tracks on the way to the ICU. After half a dozen text messages from Lanie which slowly progressed from encouraging to downright threatening, Kate agreed to visit Nick after her shift was over. The entire trip to Beth Israel she told herself it was fine—it was absolutely going to be fine, but now that she had arrived, she truly was not sure.

Having a one-on-one conversation with Nick Rodgers was something she dreamed about for _years_. She wanted to ask him about his books, what inspired him, and how he was able to write such fascinating mysteries. She wanted to know about his process, if he did research, and whether or not his ideas came from real life experiences.

She, however, could ask none of those things. Per her agreement with Lanie she had to play the part. She was Nick's fiancée and Nick's fiancée would have already asked those questions; she would have already known all the answers.

Her gut already churning, Kate subconsciously rubbed her belly before stepping into Nick's ICU room. She found him sitting upright in bed, flicking the television remote towards the screen on the opposite wall. She just stood there for a moment, hoping he might notice her, but when he didn't, she cleared her throat and said, "Uh, hi."

Nick's head turned in her direction and he replied, "Hi," tonelessly.

"Is…is now a bad time?"

"No, no," he said quickly, setting down the TV remote.

Kate gave him a half smile and took two steps towards the bed. "How are you feeling?"

"Okay…I guess. My head feels a little better than it did early today, but I think it helped to have a real meal," he said with a breathy laugh.

"Oh, right—it would." Kate tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and looked down towards her feet. Why did it suddenly feel like she was in high school all over again? Like she was the math geek and he the quarterback of the football team.

"I'm sorry, um, who are you?" Nick asked with an air of confusion.

Kate took a step back. Oh. Great. That was just great. He had no idea who she was! _Of course_ he had no idea who she was! "I, um, I'm Kate. The police officer." She had, of course, changed into her street clothes—jeans and an ivory sweater—before returning to the hospital; perhaps that wasn't the best decision.

"Oh Jesus. Right. I'm sorry. I'm your fiancé and I forgot who you were," he said muttering as he shook his head.

"No, it's okay," Kate stepped up closer to the bed. "I'm the one who should be apologizing to you for upsetting you this morning."

"It wasn't you that upset me; it was the situation," he promised her. Then, he nodded towards the closest chair. "Please sit."

Kate slid into the chair and clasped her hands in her lap.

"Everyone told me about what happened the day of my accident—how you saved my life. You sound like quite the hero," he told her.

Kate felt her ears grow hot. "Oh, no. I was just doing my job."

"But you saved my life and I thank you for that," he said genuinely. Feeling the heat in her cheeks grow stronger, Kate averted her eyes to her lap. After a moment of silence, Nick continued. "Listen, this is probably going to sound really weird to you but…can you tell me how we met?"

Kate laughed despite herself. Sure, why not? She could tell the story she made up for the hundredth time. At this point, what did it matter? "Um, sure. We…we met on the subway. Well kind of. I was on duty and we stepped on the subway together and in the crowd we were jostled and bumped into each other. I said hi and we got to talking…which, I'm sure you probably only talked to me because I was a cop and you felt obligated to."

"Oh that's not true," Nick chimed in. "I always talk to pretty girls."

She offered him a small smile. "Well, I told you that I really liked your books and-"

"You've read the books?" he interrupted, sitting up a bit straighter.

Kate let out an embarrassed, breathy laugh. "Yeah. That's why I said hello to you—I recognized you and I…I was a fan." Though she wasn't sure why, the confession seemed very intimate, embarrassing.

Nick's grin grew impossibly wider. "Ah, well I always love meeting a fan. Did I give you an autograph?"

"Ah, no," she shook her head. "I didn't ask for one."

"I usually offer…I didn't?" he asked, sounding surprised at his past action, which of course, was a complete fallacy.

"Well, I was in my police uniform," she added quickly as an attempted explanation. Fortunately, Nick seemed to buy it and merely nodded along. "So, um, how's your memory? I mean, do you remember the accident?"

He shook his head. "No. Everything leading up to Christmas is a bit fuzzy and, well, I still don't remember you at all," he told her apologetically.

Kate shook her head and held up her hand indicating it was fine. How could he remember? They had never met!

For several minutes they sat in silence. Kate honestly wasn't sure what to say to the man, fearing more conversation would dig her deeper and deeper into her asteroid-sized crater of lies. She had hoped Nick would add more to the conversation, but that clearly wasn't the case. Finally, unable to take the silence she said, "It's, ah, it's a shame you had to miss Christmas."

"Nah it's cool; I was never a big fan of all Mom's big holiday celebration stuff. I mean, just give me my presents and let me go, right?" he laughed.

Kate's nose scrunched at this almost uncaring sentiment. "Ah, yeah well your mother really does Christmas big."

"You spent Christmas with my folks?" When she confirmed, Nick continued, "Why didn't you spent it with your parents?"

"My parents are no longer living," she informed him.

Nick grimaced. "Ah, shit, sorry; I probably already knew that."

"It's fine; don't worry about it," she promised.

For another few minutes they sat in silence and Kate could feel her disappointment growing. This was Nick Rodgers—Nick Rodgers! She'd wanted to meet him for years and here he was an arm's length away and she could think of nothing to say to him. What was wrong with her?

True, their situation was far from organic. And, he had just awoken from a coma that morning. Perhaps she was being too hard on him—on them both. Clearing her throat, she pushed herself into a standing position and smiled down at him. "I'm going to go, okay? You should probably rest."

"Ah, yeah, sorry I wasn't much fun," he cringed.

Again, she shook him off. "Really, don't worry about it. Just rest." She stood awkwardly for a moment, unsure of whether it would be inappropriate to touch his hand or his arm when saying goodbye. Ultimately, she decided against it, and merely offered a wave before walking out the door wondering what the hell was wrong with her life.

* * *

 _A/N: I was actually going to save this until the end of the story, but judging from a few of the comments I want to make it now._ _When you watch your favorite movies and TV shows, generally you're a fairly superficial watcher as far as stories go, however when you write them, dive in and immerse yourself in the tale you end up looking around and sometimes have a moment where you go "wait a second, does this really make sense?"_ _As I mentioned in the beginning, While You Were Sleeping is one of my all time favorite movies, but I never really thought of Lucy's hidden truths until I started writing this story and realized how she had ample opportunities to be honest, but she never came clean for a variety of reasons. We all know that canon Kate Beckett would not go along with the ruse - if she even got wrapped up in it in the first place (which she probably wouldn't). However, Lucy did which is why Kate in this story does as my goal was to mash the Castle universe with the one from the movie, thus I'm staying true to that plot point. However, I certainly acknowledge being uncomfortable with this level of lying and, if it was an original story of mine, it probably wouldn't be happening._ _Thanks!_


	16. Chapter 16

**Chapter Sixteen**

Two days after his brother miraculously awoke from a nearly two week long coma, Richard Rodgers sat alone in his apartment thinking. His mother had texted him several times telling him to join them at the hospital, but he just couldn't bring himself to go in. He didn't know what to say to Nick that wouldn't bring them back to that knock-down, drag-out place they'd been months prior, and he definitely did not want to be responsible for upsetting Nick in his fragile state.

No, it was best for him to stay away. To stay in his apartment brooding that his less-than-deserving brother had a beautiful, perfect fiancée. Moping and sulking seemed a much more productive way to spend his morning, anyway.

Just as he was mentally arguing over how early in the day he could start drinking, his cell phone rang. Thinking it was his mother, he reached over to tap the "Ignore" button, but when he gazed at the Caller ID from the corner of his eye, he froze.

Gina Cowell. Why was Gina Cowell calling him?

Unable to suppress his curiosity, Rick reached out and tapped the "Answer" button. "Gina…hi."

* * *

Kate Beckett sat at her desk at the Twelfth Precinct deep in thought. Her shift was almost over. She should have been finishing up her arrest report, but she couldn't. Her thoughts were continually drawn back to the mystery writer lying in a private room at Beth Israel. Unlike the prior week, her concerns were not over his well-being (fortunately other than some mysterious and unexplainable lapses in memory Nick had been given a clean bill of health and would be coming home within a day or two). This time, her thought were on the man himself.

The prior day, after her shift, Kate stopped at the hospital to visit Nick. During her first visit with him her gut told her that something was off. She was able to rationalize it by saying the man had woken from a coma not twelve hours earlier. He was still on a great deal of medication and being weaned off others. Of course he was not his normal Nick Rodgers self.

When she returned the following day and found that he'd been moved from the ICU to a regular room she expected him to be back to normal. Or, at least, normal-er. Instead, their conversation was weird—really weird.

During the months she stalked the writer through the subway system she'd imagined dozens of various scenarios in her mind of how she would meet and introduce herself to him. She envisioned them finding commonalities and forming a bond, but their conversations were nothing like that. At first, she tried to brush off her feelings as being a victim of her own fantasies. Of course the real Nick Rodgers was not _the exact person_ her mind fantasied him to be; that was impossible, but it was more than that.

If the man lying in the hospital bed hadn't been Nick Rodgers— _the_ Nick Rodgers—she would not have felt any desire to speak with him again—at least, she would not have been compelled to go out of her way to do so. It all boiled down to the way he spoke. His answers were clipped and terse, not at all full of detail and whimsy like his writing. He made comments that came across as off-color or rude and, quite frankly, she just wasn't sure that she liked him.

How was that even possible? The words he created on the pages of his novels spoke to her. They made her laugh; they made her cry. She craved more and more, which was why she read them time and time again. Why didn't Nick Rodgers speak the way he wrote? If anything, the person who spoke more like that was-

And that's when it hit her. It felt like walking into a brick wall. How hadn't she seen it before!

Rick's articles—they were about sports plays and statistics but they felt more like stories than reporting on actual events. Upon initially reading them, she'd thought the writing style reminded her of Nick's books and wrote that off as a familial trait, but they were almost too similar. The pacing. The flow of the language—it all fit.

On top of that, she considered her personal interactions with him. Rick's tales from the night they spent in his apartment enthralled her, just like the books had. He used voice imitations and gestures that made watching him tell a story just as fun as listening.

That was it! That had to be it! That was why she felt so much more connected to him! Rick was the real writer of the Nick Rodgers mystery books.

Why that was the case she had absolutely no idea. She couldn't even fathom why that would be happening, but she was certain it was. It had to be—it just had to be!

Too excited by her discovery to wait another moment, Kate bounded from her desk chair the exact second her shift ended. She grabbed her coat and hurried towards the elevator, frantically stabbing at the button until the car doors open. Then, she leapt inside and tapped her foot impatiently while the car descended, waiting for the moment she could hop out and begin her trek towards Broome Street.

* * *

An oversized dopey grin adorned Kate's face when she knocked impatiently on Rick's apartment door. She could not wait to see his reaction to her discovery! She wondered if he would try to deny it at first, or relent immediately, knowing he'd been beaten. Either way, she didn't care; she was just thrilled to have figured it out.

A moment later, when Rick opened the door, he was stone faced, but Kate was too excited to take notice. "What are you doing here?" he asked, his tone showing the slightest hint of annoyance that Kate didn't pick up on.

"I wanted to talk to you and realized I don't have your phone number," she laughed slightly, still giddy from her discover.

"Oh…right."

"Can I come in or is this a bad time?" She asked, for the first time taking note of his solemn face. He stepped aside and let her in, but said nothing. Uncertainty began to bubble in Kate's gut. Maybe this wasn't the best time for him, after all. "I, um, I-"

"Funny story, actually."

Kate's brow rose at Rick's sharp tone; she had absolutely no idea to what he was referring. "Oh?"

Rick shut his apartment door behind her, folded his arms over his chest and faced her with his feet in a wide stance. "Gina came back to town today. She couldn't get ahold of Nick so she called me."

The cop's brow wrinkled. Gina? Did she know that name? It kind of sounded familiar, but she couldn't place it. Unfortunately, she had thought for several seconds too long and given herself away. Rick continued without waiting for her to say a word.

"Gina—Nick's publisher. And his girlfriend."

Kate felt every drop of blood drain from her face. She took a step back from him and swallowed hard. No, no, no! Oh god, no! She wanted to run, she wanted to escape, but she couldn't. Now that she saw the fury on his face, the hurt and anger in his eyes, she was rooted to the spot and couldn't have moved if her life depended on it.

"See," Rick began, pacing the tiny entry way leading to the kitchen, "what you don't know—and what you probably would know, if you were really Nick's fiancée—is that Gina and I dated for about a year. We broke up…oh, fourteen months ago now. Shortly thereafter she started sleeping with Nick. So, when she couldn't get Nick on his cell phone she called me. Turns out before she went on her skiing holiday she and Nick had a big fight and broke up. The only reason she called is because now that she's back she wants to pick up her cat."

"O-oh." Kate croaked. Bad. This was so incredibly bad and she could do absolutely nothing about it. She was completely, one hundred percent in the wrong, so she just had to stand there and take whatever fury Rick raged at her; she deserved every bit of it.

"Yeah." And he said no more, he just looked at her, his eyes clearly searching for some semblance of an explanation.

Did Kate have that? Well, not exactly. What she did was inexcusable. How could she even begin to tell him what happened when she didn't even know herself? Still, she had to try. "Okay, I-"

"What the hell is wrong with you?!" He spat before she'd said more than two syllables.

Kate held up her hands in an attempt to speak her peace. "Rick, wait. Just let me-"

"Did you even know Nick?" he demanded. "Because I think we've clearly established you're not his fiancée. Are you?" He paused and watched as Kate shook her head, her gaze never leaving his face. "Did you know him?" he continued.

"No," she replied quietly. "We'd never met—not before his accident anyway."

Rick threw his hands up and turned away from her, pacing once more. "Jesus… so what? You're just the cop that saved him? Why the charade?"

He shot her a judgmental look that shattered her heart and caused tears to spring to her eyes, though she managed to kept hem at bay for the moment. "I'm sorry, I…I don't know. This all started as a mix up and it got completely out of hand and then your grandmother …I thought she was having a heart attack and I…and Lanie-"

"Lanie!?" He bellowed the name of his sister so loud Kate felt the reverberations in her chest.

With a simple nod, she explained. "She knows. She's known from the beginning. She encouraged me to…to keep this up."

Rick clicked his tongue in response. "Well that doesn't make any sense at all."

"Why?"

"Because Lanie's been in love with Nick since we were teenagers! Why would she want someone to pretend to be his fiancée?"

She shook her head and stammered, "I…I don't…"

"Jesus and you…what's the matter with you?" His chest heaved at he looked at her. How was this even real? How was it not a nightmare from which he would awake?

Hearing his backhanded insult from the second time, Kate finally found enough footing to defend herself. Of course, what came out was not a defense so much as it was a return accusation. "With me?! Look, I'm not going to stand here and say what I did was right; I did lie and that was wrong, but I could ask you the same question."

Having no idea how their conversation had turned on him, Rick's only response was, "Excuse me?"

Feeling a bit more confident in herself, she took a half step towards him. "Why did you lie?"

"About what!?"

"You're the real writer, aren't you?"

He blinked at her. Then, he swallowed. He held her gaze steady for ten more seconds before asking in a nearly invisible tone, "What?"

Despite the fire of angst raging in her chest, Kate managed a small smile at this triumph; so she had been right. Using a soft as tone as she could muster with her racing heart, she approached him cautiously. "That's why I came to see you—because I realized. I figured it out. It wasn't hard. That's the reason I saved Nick on the tracks that day. The reason I was there—I mean.

"I've read every single Nick Rodgers book ever written at least three times. Some even more. I can probably recite _Flowers for Your Grave_ by heart. I saw Nick while on my beat months ago—at the end of summer. I could never get the courage to say hi, but I knew his usual train schedule. Makes me sound like a stalker, I know," she groaned and shook her head, brushing a stray strand of hair out of her face. Somehow, in the face of her own mortification, she'd thrown caution to the wind and no longer felt shame in revealing the more embarrassing parts of her tale.

"But that's why I was there that morning watching him get on the train. And I saved him, thinking he was my favorite writer. The thing of it is," she paused and stepped so that she was barely a foot from him. He watched her wide-eyed and she could hear his shallow exhales increase in frequency. "I know how Nick Rodgers writes, but that's not how Nick Rodgers speaks. But you…that night we spent here talking and I read your articles. You write the books, don't you?"

For a solid thirty seconds, Rick stared at her, his mind practically blank. How had she-? How could she-? But they had been so—and he didn't try to-but somehow… Then, almost as quickly as the flick of a light switch, his brain was drawn back to the present and his shock dissolved into fury. "Fine. You got me." He spat at her before taking a step back. "I ghostwrite my brother's books. So what? You made up an entire relationship and lied about it for two weeks!"

She didn't acknowledge his accusation, but instead asked, "Why do you ghostwrite?"

His eyes narrowed at her. "That's none of your concern."

Rick continued to stare at her for another thirty seconds before he turned away and walked into the kitchen. He didn't want to look at her anymore; he didn't want to talk to her. He just wanted her gone.

"Do your parents know? That Nick and I aren't..."

"No," he replied, still refusing to look at her. "I'm the only one that knows. Gina called me a few hours ago. I just got home from meeting her at Nick's place to make sure she got Fluffy back."

"I think her name was Princess."

"Whatever."

Kate waited for several more moments for Rick to turn around, but he never did. Staring at his back, she could feel the tears begin their trek down her cheeks and decided it was best if she made her escape. "Look I…I honestly never meant for any of this to happen. Truly. I never wanted to hurt anyone. I know this isn't an excuse, but everything got out of hand and…"

She let her voice drop off. What else could she say? Nothing would ever make it better; nothing would take her back in time so she could do it over again. "I'll go now—you guys will never hear from me again. Please apologize to everyone for me. Nick. Your parents. Lanie. I just…I'm very sorry for disrupting your lives and I…yeah."

With that, she turned and walked out of his apartment, knowing full well it would be the last time she ever saw her favorite mystery writer.

* * *

 _A/N: Congrats to everyone who figured out/guessed that Rick was the real writer (and some of you got it really early on!) - though I suppose it wasn't that shocking of a twist. And, yes, just a little bit of angst in this story._

 _One other thing - for anyone who follows me on Tumblr you may have seen I posted a #CastleFanficMonday story in which the readers are able to choose what happens next. Voting closes tomorrow so make sure you let me know which scenario you prefer if you haven't already. Thanks!_


	17. Chapter 17

**Chapter Seventeen**

Seconds after Kate left his apartment, Rick began pacing the area between the kitchen and living room. The amalgamation of emotions coursing through his veins confused his brain so much he had no idea which to react to first. He balled his fists and held his arms taunt at his side as he traced the six foot path over and over again, feeling not unlike the panting lions that traversed the glass fronts of their cages at the zoo.

He was furious with her for concocting such a devious scheme—with the help of Lanie, no less! How could she do such a thing? What kind of person would do that?

The singe of betrayal burned in his chest. He had trusted her—they all had. They let her into their family, no questions asked, only to find out now it all had been a ruse. And for what? He could not begin to fathom what she hoped to gain from her lies. She had to have known eventually Nick would wake up and unveil her nefarious ploy, so why was she even bothering with the charade?

The more he thought about the prior fortnight, the more his disgust and disappointment grew. He had befriended her. He had developed feelings for her! And what a fool he was. Those hours they spent talking in his apartment, their playful chatter while putting away Christmas decorations-it all meant nothing.

He thought she was kind and generous, but she was merely manipulating them all. She was a cop! A cop! A profession generally dedicated to protecting and serving the surrounding populous. What kind of cop was she if her hobbies included manipulating emotionally vulnerable families? God, had she even saved Nick from the train that day? Or was that a lie too?

As the scenarios and questions spun in his mind, Rick realized the person he was most disappointed with was himself. Right from the start he had questioned her relationship with Nick. It was all too sudden-too random. True, he hadn't spoken to his brother in several months and that distance provided him the small grain of doubt that allowed him to believe her tales, but he should have gone with his gut.

Nick Rodgers was unlikely to get married in the next decade let alone become engaged to a woman he'd known for a short period of time. Nick Rodgers would show no more than a passing interest in a woman who wore limited amounts of makeup, loose-fitting clothing, and had a cup size less than the nation's average. And, even if lightning struck and Nick Rodgers did find such a woman and fall madly in love with her, there was no way he would have kept such a relationship secret; he would have been singing her praises from the rooftop. With the exception of Gina, Rick had learned far more than he ever needed to about his brother's sexual escapades with all of his lovers.

Unable to spend another moment in his apartment, Rick grabbed his coat, keys and wallet and headed out the door. Still too furious, he actually walked past the elevator on his floor and had to backtrack in order to descend to street level. He needed to move—to walk. Walking was good. Perhaps a stroll in the frigid January air would quell the fire of rage within him or, at the very least, numb the pain in his fractured heart.

Then again, maybe not.

After only three blocks, the whipping wind proved too much for his exposed nose and cheeks, and Rick descended into the nearest subway. There again he was reminded of Kate. There weren't any cops in sight, but with her tale so fresh in his mind, a vision of her popped into his mind. He grumbled under his breath as he stepped into the waiting car; that story was probably a lie too.

* * *

"Richard what's wrong with you?" Martha Rodgers asked the moment her eldest walked into his brother's hospital room. His hair was disheveled, his jaw as tense as she'd ever seen it, and his gaze flitted left and right like a paranoid stray dog. "You look like you've just been attacked."

He let out a mirthless laugh as his gaze shifted from his mother to his brother and father in turn. "Actually, I just talked to Kate."

Martha arched an eyebrow. "Kate? Is she alright"

"Other than being a massive, pathological liar, yeah; she's great," he said, his tone dripping with sarcasm.

The married couple in the room exchanged glances before Chet asked, "What?"

Rick took a deep breath in through his nose and exhaled through his lips. He was still in that seeing-red state of rage but knew he needed to calmly explain the situation to his family; ranting and rambling would help no one. "Kate's been lying to us the whole time. She's not Nick's fiancée; she's never even met him before this."

Martha let out a light laugh, figuring her son was telling a joke she did not yet understand. "What?"

Rick felt his stomach flip in his gut when facing the possibility of rehashing Kate's tale. Just the thought of it threw gasoline on the raw flames of rage in his chest. God, how could she have done this? Her behavior was borderline sociopathic!

"Wait...I'm not engaged?" Nick asked, tilting his head to the side as he looked at his brother.

"No, you never were."

"Wait a second, Richard, are you serious?" Martha asked. When her son nodded she gazed distantly at her husband. "I…I don't understand."

"Yeah, welcome the club." He muttered under his breath. Then, speaking a bit louder, he continued, "Evidently, this whole scheme was cooked up by Kate with help from Lanie."

"Lanie!? Our Lanie?" Chet responded; Rick confirmed with the bob of his head. "So...who is she? Is she even a police officer?"

"Yes, yes I've been to her precinct," Rick confirmed. For a moment, he wished she wasn't. Then her series of lies would have been discovered over week earlier; maybe then it would have hurt less. "She's definitely a police officer, but as for the rest of it...your guess is as good as mine."

The room remained silent for several moments as everyone processed the news. Martha was the next to speak. "How did you find this out? Did she tell you?"

"No, Gina called me."

Nick let out a moan and dropped his head back against his pillow.

Suddenly feeling a significant reduction in sympathy towards his brother, Rick turned to him. "Which, by the way, now that we know you haven't lost your memory I assume you remember taking her cat hostage?"

Nick's eyes flew open wide. "Shit! Oh god! It didn't die did it?"

"No, Kate...Kate was feeding her." His voice dropped off at the end of the sentence when he realized that was yet another lie from her. She and Nick had not adopted the Persian. In fact, knowing Gina, the cat probably came from a fancy breeder and wasn't even a rescue.

"Wait, Richard, finish your story—what did Gina say?" his mother asked.

Facing his parents, Rick said, "Gina called me when she couldn't get a hold of Nick. She was looking for her cat, asked what happened to Nick and...the whole thing just kind of came out. When Gina told me that she and Nick broke up just before Christmas, I realized that Kate must have been lying, because while I wouldn't put it past Nick to date two women at once, he's far too lazy to keep all the required lies straight."

"Hey!" Nick squealed. "I'm right here!"

Ignoring this, Rick finished with, "And I just figured the rest out."

Chet's brow furrowed as he processed this news. He was fully aware of Rick's relationship with the publisher, but this certainly was an interesting development that actually explained a great deal about what had happened to his family in the prior few months. "Wait a second...you were dating Gina?"

Rick huffed under his breath. "Oh I see you didn't tell them either."

Nick grumbled. "Well I didn't want it to get back to you. Mom isn't known for keeping secrets."

"Nicholas!" his mother scolded, but her comment fell on deaf ears.

"Of course," Rick said to his brother. Then, turning to his parents, he explained, "Nick and Gina have been seeing each other for almost a year."

"Not really...well technically, but it was really off and on and..." Nick's voice drifted off when he realized three pairs of disapproving eyes had fallen on him. "Never mind…"

Rick rubbed his hands over his face as the crushing feeling in his chest began to squeeze a bit tighter. He knew the longer he stayed he would say something he regretted. "Look I...I really can't be here right now. I assume you two will handle Lanie."

"Wait, Richard! Where are you going?" his mother called out as he made his way to the exit.

He called out over his shoulder, not bothering to look back. "Somewhere else."


	18. Chapter 18

**Chapter Eighteen**

Kate Beckett walked into the bullpen of the twelfth precinct, flopped down in her desk chair and sighed. She _really_ did not want to write the arrest report for the miscreant who thought it was a genius idea to attempt to steal the purses of four unsuspecting tourists crowded together observing the hustle and bustle that was Times Square. What he didn't know and subsequently found out in the most painful of ways was that three of the women were professional body builders. The fourth? A sprinter who'd missed the opportunity to join Olympic team by mere seconds.

Despite being one of her more interesting arrests, Kate still did not feel motivated to write up the paperwork. Then again, those days, she didn't have much motivation for anything. As a result, she spent the majority of her off-shift time alone in her apartment staring blankly at her television wondering why she'd been such a fool.

In the five days since all of her lies blew up in her face Kate had spent much time reviewing the two weeks she spent as Nick Rodger's pseudo fiancée in great detail. She thought of all the times she could have come clean and told the truth without hurting anyone. Yes, they would have been angry with her, but in the early days they didn't know her well enough to really be hurt. Sadly, the way she had handled the situation did nothing but hurt them—Rick in particular.

In light of her discovery, Kate wasn't sure caused her the most distress: the fact that she'd hurt her new friend or the fact that she'd made her favorite author hate her with every fiber of his being. While the second one upset her, it was not as though she would have had a personal relationship with someone she deemed her favorite writer; that simply wasn't done. Hurting her friend, Rick, though—that was all on her.

Part of her wanted to write them a letter and formally apologize and she started several drafts in her mind before abandoning the idea. She needed a clean break. She just had to walk away and never look back—that was best for everyone.

Twenty minutes after she arrived back at her desk, she had made significant progress on her arrest report. Well, she started it, which was better than nothing. It was a bit of a slow-go, but starting it really was the hardest part.

"Beckett! Hey Beckett!"

Kate felt herself brighten upon hearing her name called across the bullpen. A several minute distraction would be most welcome. She stood from her seat, turned and was immediately stunned at what she saw.

"You have a visitor," one of her fellow officers told her.

Kate stared, her mouth slightly open, as Lanie approached. Though she never expected to see any of the Palaburn-Rodgers clan again, her co-conspirator did seem the most likely visitor of all of them.

"Hi Kate," Lanie began softly. "I, ah, wondered if we could talk."

"I, ah…yeah ok. Just a few minutes; I'm on duty," Kate explained, leading the way to the floor's break room.

"I understand and I'll try to keep it brief," Lanie said as they walked.

Kate found the break room mercifully empty, and gestured for Lanie to sit at one of the small round tables inside. Once they were both seated, the older woman continued. "I realize I'm probably not your favorite person right now, but I still wanted to apologize to you since all of this was kind of my fault."

Kate shook her head at Lanie's guilty expression. "It wasn't your fault."

"I encouraged you not to tell them the truth."

Kate nodded her head; this was a valid point. Had Lanie not intervened, she would not have let the lies go past that first dinner the day after Christmas; she absolutely would have come clean. Thinking back to her fight with Rick, Kate asked, "Yeah and why did you? Rick told me that you're in love with Nick…"

Lanie laughed. "Rick would say that."

"You're not?"

She shook her head. "I was…for a while, but I am finally well aware that Nick will never like me in that way. I'm not his type…and neither are you," she added in a knowing tone.

"Exactly!" Kate proclaimed. Neither was he her type, as it turned out. "So why would you want me to stay around?"

Fighting to hide a smirk, Lanie said, "You're not _Nick's_ type…"

Kate's brow wrinkled with confusion, not sure what the other woman was implying. If she wasn't Nick's type then whose type was she? But, as Lanie's smile grew, she realized exactly what she implied and her face began to heat. "Rick…"

Lanie grinned and Kate shook her head with an exhale. "What are you? The family matchmaker?"

Lanie tossed her head back and laughed. "No… not even close. Rick's a great guy—he truly is like a brother to me. I love him very much and it makes me sad that…well, he hasn't had the easiest time."

Kate could hear the hidden implication in Lanie's tone and decided to come clean about what she'd discovered. "I know about the books—that he ghostwrites, I mean."

Lanie leaned back, her eyes wide. "He told you?"

"Figured it out. But that's all I know. Why does he do that?"

She sighed and traced her fingers absentmindedly over the tabletop. "Ah, well, you'll have to ask Rick that; it's not really my place to say, but the guy's got the wrong end of the stick more than his share of times. He deserves something good in his life."

That time, it was Kate who laughed at the ridiculous implication. "I hope you don't mean me…because I'm pretty sure he hates me right now."

"He doesn't hate you. He's just upset…shocked…relieved." When Lanie saw the younger girl's brow knit again, she clarified. "He likes you, too."

Now entirely skeptical to Lanie's motives, Kate said, "You really are the matchmaker, aren't you?"

"No, I just know this family too well. Just give Rick some time—he'll come around." She studied the cop for a moment, but when her expression could not be translated, she continued. "I mean…you want him to, don't you?"

Kate pressed her lips together tightly as she remembered fondly the time she spent in Rick's presence. She recalled his laugh and the way his eyes crinkled when he smiled. The memory of his lips against hers during their kiss under the mistletoe always filled her stomach with butterflies whenever she thought about it. Their friendship had blossomed unexpectedly well during the ten days they knew one another and, in her opinion, they certainly had potential to become more than friends. Or, at least, they _did_ , but she'd destroyed all of that. How could he ever get past all the lies she'd told?

"I don't know."

Lanie took her at her word and didn't question it, but she had also seen them interact with each other. Matchmaker she was not, but that didn't mean she couldn't give her brother a tiny nudge if he needed it—which, in this case, he absolutely did.

* * *

"You," Rick grumbled upon sight of his sister standing outside his apartment door. He had not spoken to any members of his family since the day he revealed Kate's lies to them in Nick's hospital room. He had received a text message from his mother stating that Nick had been released and was resting at home, but he had not responded. What was there to say?

"Don't be like that," Lanie said, casually waiving her hand as she stepped into his apartment without waiting for an invitation.

Rick kicked the door shut and turned to her, his arms folded over his chest. "I'm kind of pissed at you."

Lanie bobbed her head. "That's fair."

"Why'd you do it? Why'd you tell her to keep lying to us?" He'd thought about it for several days and couldn't fathom a reasonable explanation for it—any of it. Like Kate, Lanie had to have known the lie would eventually be exposed, so why go to the trouble?

Lanie clasped her hands together and spoke purposefully. "Because I thought you needed it—all of you. C'mon Rick. You weren't talking to Nick. Chet wasn't talking to you. You were barely speaking to your mother and it was Christmas!"

Rick pressed his lips together tightly. Okay, she had a point. His fight with Nick had affected the whole family. More accurately: it divided them down the middle. Without the full story, their parents were only left with bits and pieces. Chet chose to believe Rick was being the most unreasonable, and thus became angry that he was the instigator of the dispute. Granted, that was back when his parents knew nothing of Gina's involvement in the feud; things would probably be a bit clearer to them now.

"I know you and Nick had both agreed to come to Christmas dinner, but I was preparing myself for civil war—so were your parents, by the way," Lanie pointed out in a tone that made it sound as though she were the elder sibling. "Then, suddenly, Kate was here and you guys were a family again."

Rick considered arguing the point that it was Nick's accident not Kate's presence that reunited them, but decided against it. "I see your point but…what did we gain from all of this? She's gone and our problems aren't. Nick and I-"

"You guys have to work things out on your own—I get that. But after all this, don't you want to? He's your brother and you almost lost him."

He grumbled at her extremely valid and logical point. "Why are you always so smart?"

Lanie beamed. "Because I am. Now what about Kate?"

Rick scoffed. "She's gone; it's over."

She folded her arms over her chest and shot him a look of absolute disapproval. "Uh uh—no way honey. I don't believe that for a second." Stepping closer to him, she challenged, "You told her about the books. You wouldn't have unless-"

"She guessed!" he interjected. "She figured it out and I didn't deny it." That absolutely was not the same thing as telling her the truth.

"And yet, you've denied it before…"

"I-" Rick made to protest, but no further words came out. Once again, Lanie had caught him.

Other than their immediately family, very few people were in the know about the brothers' writing collaborations. Their book agent and the publishers knew, but beyond that the list was extremely short. Still shorter was the list of anyone who had figured it out on their own. Most of the inquires came from his secondary career as a sports writer. If anyone made the connection between the siblings he had no problem deflecting any accusations.

Kate was the only one who had guessed that he was the true author. If anyone else had ever suspected, they'd never asked. Likewise, she was the only one to whom he had confirmed the truth. And he knew, deep down, if he was honest with himself, the exact reason why he had done so.

"She…she told me she loved the books—that she'd read them over and over again." Though at that moment he'd been extraordinarily angry with her, he could still recall the reverence in her tone during her confessions. "And, there was this night we just sat here and talked for hours. It was…easy."

Lanie smiled inwardly. It had been quite some time since she'd seen her brother this smitten. "It still can be."

When Rick shot her a skeptical look, Lanie continued, "Look, it might not work out. Maybe too much has happened. Maybe you can't get past this – but you've gotta at least try, right?"

Without waiting for his response, she stepped forward and placed a scrap of paper on his kitchen table. "This is her phone number. Why don't you give her a call? Or, you know, stop by her precinct. I know you know where it is."

"Lanie," he sighed, not really sure what else to say to her, but still feeling the need to protest.

She turned towards the door while saying, "Just think about it, Rick." With that, she left, leaving her brother behind as he stared at seven digits on a torn scrap of paper.


	19. Chapter 19

**Chapter Nineteen**

"Beckett? There's someone here to see you."

One of her fellow officers caught her just as she was about to enter the break room and Kate grumbled to herself. Great—Lanie again.

Kate didn't dislike Lanie—truly. Ever since her visit two days earlier they had been texting occasionally. It was clear Lanie wanted to remain friends, and Kate couldn't be mad about that, but she simply wasn't sure if she wanted to be Lanie's friend. This opinion was decidedly not a reflection on Lanie herself, but more her family.

Kate was trying her best to move on to the incidents surrounding Nick Rodger's accident. After thinking about it a great deal, she decided the best way to do that was a clean break. She would not think about or speak to anyone in the Palaburn-Rodgers clan—ever again. Of course, as she had not one hundred percent decided on that plan, she had been cordial with Lanie, but she knew it would be best to just cut ties and move on.

Somewhat reluctantly, Kate thanked her coworker and returned to the bullpen. She stopped dead just two feet from her desk when her eyes fell on the six-foot-one figure standing with his fingertips dancing across the top of her nameplate. She felt her stomach flip over in her gut. Oh god, oh god. What was he doing here?!

"Rick?" She spoke softly, though how she managed to have any voice at all astounded her.

He gazed up and smiled gently. "Hi."

"Hi." She echoed. He approached her. Dark blue plaid button down shirt, dark jeans, coat draped over one arm. He looked incredible, but he couldn't focus on that; she needed to focus on breathing and not slipping into a state of shock.

"I, ah, I don't want to bother you, but this seemed more like an in person conversation."

"Really?" she asked, the words slipping out before she had a chance to hold them in. "I thought you never wanted to see me again."

"Never is a long time, Kate," he replied, a gentle tone to his voice.

He continued to gaze at her as thought he'd discovered a long-lost talisman he'd been seeking for years. The persistent stare caused her ears to grow hot and she cleared her throat nervously, desperate to find anything to talk about and alleviate the silence. "So, um, is—is Nick still in the hospital?"

Rick shook his head. "No, he's at home resting. Lanie says he's driving them all crazy, actually. The doctors told him not to exert himself so naturally he's abusing my parents' hospitality. I also hear he's quite relieved."

"That he doesn't actually have amnesia, I imagine," Kate said as her gut clenched with guilt.

He nodded his head, considering this. "I'm sure that's part of it, but no, because he doesn't have to marry you. I mean, ah,-" he added quickly at her offended expression, "that he doesn't have to marry anyone. Not you, specifically."

"I see."

"So, ah," Rick took a step closer to her, "can we talk? After your shift, I mean. There's things that need said."

Kate lowered her chin to her chest. She definitely had no desire to listen to him yell at her again. She felt bad enough for everything that had happened; she didn't need him reminding her of all the terrible things she did. Yet, on the other hand, maybe it would help her to move on if she apologized to him again and he accepted that apology; that would make her feel better.

"Please?" Rick added, sensing her hesitation.

She glanced up and nodded. "Sure, I-I guess."

He smiled and passed over a business card. "My cell phone number. I realized we don't exactly have a great way to communicate when I came here yesterday to talk to you but you weren't on shift."

Her jaw dropped slightly. "You didn't."

"I did. Lanie gave me your number, but I didn't feel right using it…especially not how we left things." He explained. "So, ah, give me a call, okay? I can meet you anywhere; you pick the place."

"I…okay. Thanks," she added, taking the business card and flipping it over in her palm. It was simple, straight to the point listing his name, email address, and cell phone number printed in block text in the center of an otherwise blank card.

He flashed her a tentative smile. "Talk to you soon, Kate."

* * *

Several hours and a half a dozen antacids later, Kate Beckett stood on a street corner several blocks from her precinct waiting for the mystery writer to arrive. Despite it being January, the volatile weather had brought that day's temperature up to the high 40's. With a strong sun and limited winds, the atmosphere was not unpleasant.

This was good, she told herself. They would go for a nice, casual walk through the park where either of them could bail at any moment if things became weird or uncomfortable. This was the conclusion she came to after arguing back and forth for two hours whether or not she should see him again at all. She finally sent him a text message an hour before the end of her shift agreeing to meet. He had suggested dinner, but she refused, not wanting to be trapped into a meal with him if things were too awkward.

When she spotted him approaching, her heartrate spiked and her hands began to feel extra clammy in her gloves. She took in a long, slow breath though her nose and exhaled the same way. It was going to be fine, just fine. Really—how could this conversation hurt her any more than she already hurt herself?

"Thanks for meeting me," he said when he stopped just a foot away.

She nodded and led the way into the park, both of them walking side by side. "So, um, you said there were things that need said?"

He bobbed his head. "Yeah, I…I realized that I never gave you a chance to properly explain the situation—explain what happened. When we argued in my apartment, I was upset and…well, I'd like to hear about everything from your side, if you're up to sharing. I promise I won't interrupt."

Kate nodded, and led the way to the closest empty bench. They both sat, and she tucked her folded hands between her knees. Looking over at him she said, "I guess I don't know where to begin."

"The beginning?" he suggested. "How did this all start? I mean, what made you tell my parents and sister you were Nick's fiancée?"

"Well, actually, that's not exactly how it happened," she said. Then, for the next several moments, she explained her arrival at the hospital, the nurse's mistake and his grandmother's illness. As she spoke, the crushing sense of despair fell down on her again. How could she have been such a fool? Why hadn't she corrected the nurse immediately? The Palaburn-Rodgers family would have thought nothing of it. Instead, she created a complete and total mess.

"After Christmas Eve dinner I was just going to leave—walk away and never look back, but then Lanie found me at the hospital visiting Nick," Kate sighed.

"And she talked you into keeping up the charade," Rick concluded.

Kate nodded reluctantly. "I should never have agreed. It was awful of me and I know I shouldn't have but…but Christmas dinner was just so nice. It…it was nice to be part of a family again for a moment, even if it was all a lie," she confessed.

Rick sat silently for a moment, thinking back to the night they met nearly four weeks earlier. "I think I saw that," he said. When she gazed curiously at him, he continued. "When we were opening presents I caught you looking at us. Your face…it looked like you were drowning and we pulled you to shore."

Kate laughed softly and nodded at his eerily accurate description that summed up her feelings of amazement, relief and shock. She sat silently for a moment, rubbing her hands together so tightly it was almost painful, but she couldn't bring herself to stop; the pain in her hands distracted the pain in her heart.

"I don't know what to say, Rick, other than I'm very, truly sorry and I never meant for any of this to happen. I don't know what I was thinking, though I'll probably have plenty of time to think about it since I'll regret this for the rest of my life. I regret hurting your family and stringing them along. I regret dragging Nick into all this. I don't regret saving him, obviously—that's the one good thing to come out of this. Saving him...and meeting you."

Kate paused, looked up and met his gaze only to find he was staring at her intently. "That's what I regret the most—destroying what we could have had. I know that you'll probably never forgive me for what I did, and I can't blame you at all for that, but I will miss our friendship. I know it was only a few weeks but..."

She shook her head as her voice drifted off. She was rambling and she needed to rein it in—finish up her apology so she could walk away; so they could both move on. "I know none of that really answered your question from last week. You asked me why...and I guess...I guess the best explanation I can give you is that, even though I knew it was wrong, it was nice being part of a family again. I'd forgotten what that was like and...and I never realized how alone I was until I wasn't anymore."

Rick couldn't take his eyes off her. There she was—wounded and broken—but yet so strong. Strong enough to apologize and feel an obvious amount of remorse. Her words broke his heart. He would never understand what it was like to be alone in the world; he didn't want to. He didn't want her to be alone, either, which was why he leaned forward and in one swift motion, tilted her chin up with his index finger and pressed his lips against hers.

Instinctually, she jumped back, eyes wide.

"I'm sorry," he apologized with a half laugh. He was sorry only for startling her, not for the kiss. "I couldn't help myself—I've wanted to do that for weeks!"

"R-really?"

He skimmed his hand over her forearm as he nodded. "Of course. From the moment we met I thought you were the most beautiful woman I'd ever seen."

"Oh my god," she exhaled and before she realized several tears had slipped down her cheeks. She quickly tried to brush them away, though doing so with her gloves on was a clumsy endeavor. Embarrassed, she shook her head and turned away from him, but he refused to let her hide.

"Hey, it's okay." He closed the distance between them and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her against his chest.

She leaned in and, for the first time in days, relaxed fully in his embrace. God, did his arms feel wonderful around her. Their strength comforted her as did the solidness of his chest. (And the fact that he smelled positively divine didn't hurt, either.)

After a minute, Rick pulled back and skimmed his lips against her temple. "You know, if you think about it I wasn't exactly honest with you either."

After procuring a napkin from her jacket pocket and dabbing her cheeks with it, Kate eyed him skeptically. "What? About the books? You cannot possibly be comparing that to-"

"All I'm saying." He cut her off with a sparkling smile. "Is that we both hid things from each other, so maybe we should start over. I'd like to take you to dinner."

"Dinner?" She could not have sounded more surprised if he had suggested they go horseback riding while wearing space suits.

"Yes, dinner. Tomorrow night?"

She cringed. "I'm sorry; I'm on shift."

"When's the next night your free?"

She considered her schedule before saying, "Friday but if you-"

"Friday," he confirmed with a smile. "It's a date."

* * *

 _A/N - Hi guys! I hope you're all enjoying this story now that we've taken a permanent detour from the plot of the movie. I just wanted to let you know that I'll be skipping the Wednesday update this week because I'll be out of town. The next update will be **Saturday, October 3rd**. Thanks!_


	20. Chapter 20

**Chapter Twenty**

"Can I ask you something kind of weird?" Kate Beckett gazed across the table at her dinner companion with a tentative expression. There she sat, dolled up in her nicest LBD wearing heels and earrings—both virtually nonexistent in her wardrobe as of late. She'd even used a curling iron on her hair for Christ's sakes! Then again, this was no ordinary date. This was her first date with _Richard Rodgers_ , writer extraordinaire.

In true fashion, he'd whisked her off to one of the city's best restaurants. The kind of restaurant ordinary people dreamed of getting a table at particularly on a Friday night during prime dining time. She'd insisted that he didn't have to go to any trouble for her; she was a cop and she'd be perfectly happy with a greasy diner burger. While he concurred that greasy diner burgers could be delicious, this was a special occasion and a special meal they would get.

Clad in a dark blazer with a white shirt beneath, Rick, looking as sexy as she'd ever seen him, glanced up from his menu curiously. "Ok?"

"Does…do your parents know we're on this date?" She asked in a soft tone, leaning across the table as much as she could so her voice wouldn't carry.

"No, why would they?" he asked, his tone befuddled. She gave an embarrassed shrug and he continued. "I'm thirty-three, Kate; I don't tell my parents about my dates."

"No, no, I mean of course you don't," she said quickly. "I just meant…me. Do they know you're talking to me? They must be furious…"

Rick put his menu aside and took a deep breath. Truth be told, he had not been communicating with his parents in the prior week. He needed time away, time to process. He had a text message conversation with his mother and agreed to join them for dinner on Sunday night, but that was the extent of their communication. He feared that Kate would feel even guiltier with this knowledge and he believed she'd already suffered enough, so he decided to answer creatively. "I think Lanie did a pretty good job at smoothing things over with them. Besides, Nick's alright, and that's what really matters to them."

Kate grumbled at the mention of her former faux-fiancée. "Nick must hate me too."

He gave her a reassuring smile. "Trust me: he's the least of your worries. In time, he'll find this hilarious." Sensing she was not convinced, Rick decided to change the subject. "So, tell me, why did you become a cop?"

She shrugged, picked up her water glass and took a sip. "Seemed like the thing to do."

Intrigued, he leaned a bit closer to her. "Really? A Manhattan girl like you? Wouldn't you rather have been a lawyer?"

She chuckled at his observation skills. "Actually, my parents were lawyers and I was pre-law in college."

He grinned; he always loved it when he was right. "And…?"

Her response came in the form of a clipped, "Things happened," as she turned her eyes away.

Knowing he struck a nerve, Rick was quick to apologize. "I'm sorry; I didn't mean to pry."

"No, I know. It's just…my mother's death isn't something I usually talk about."

He smiled and leaned back in his chair. "Then say no more about it. How does one actually become a cop, anyway? There's an academy, right?"

For the next ninety minutes, Kate and Rick talked virtually non-stop about their past lives and present interests. By the end of the meal Kate found herself laughing so hard that her cheeks hurt, though that didn't mean she wanted to stop; she could have listened to his stories all night.

Finally, after getting the evil eye from their waiter for the fourth time, Rick paid the bill and they headed back onto the city streets, where a light snow had begun to fall. He then hailed her a cab and opened the door for her while pausing to say goodbye. "When can I see you again?"

"I, ah, I dunno," she said, loving the butterflies filling her stomach at his desire-filled gaze. "What did you have in mind?"

"Tomorrow night," he said. "My place; I'll make you dinner."

She arched an eyebrow both curious and impressed. "You can cook?"

"I have many hidden talents, Kate."

His smooth tone made her blush and she nodded, agreeing to dinner. "It's a date."

She moved to get into the cab, but he stopped her, grabbing onto her hand. He pulled her in, lowered his head and closed his lips around hers. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight," she echoed before sliding into the cab, knowing she would not be able to remove the dopey grin from her face for the remainder of the night.

Twenty-four hours later Kate sat cross-legged on Rick's couch sipping on water, attempting to calm herself after another howl-inducing story about his misadventures in research during his early writing days. Before the tale began, he warned her that it was going to be an especially good one as he did not get to tell it often. Having to hide his true profession meant concealing his best and funniest of stories as well.

Setting her water bottle down, Kate readjusted her position on the couch so that she faced him more directly. Unlike the prior evening when she'd dressed to the nines, Rick informed her ahead of time that this was a casual date. He would be wearing jeans and so should she. Well, jean leggings if she wanted to get technical about it.

Though it was only her third visit there, Kate felt very comfortable in Rick's domain. The lighting was warm and inviting and his couch was one of the most comfortable she'd ever sat on. Plus, she decided as they sat together after their delicious meal, his smile would warm even the chilliest of spaces.

"I know we haven't known each other that long and it's totally not my place to ask, so you can feel free to tell me it's none of my business, but how did you get started ghostwriting Nick's books?" The question had been on her mind from the moment she'd figured it out. Of course she had heard of ghostwriters before, but did not actually know of a novel that had been ghostwritten. She maintained a healthy curiosity about how that situation would come about and could contain it no longer.

Rick set down his wine glass and leaned forward, his forearms against his thighs. "That's not exactly what's going on," he informed her, though admittedly using the term "ghostwriting" was certainly the easiest way of explaining the intricacies of the situation.

Kate shook her head. "Forget it; I shouldn't have asked."

"No, no," He said quickly. "I don't mind telling you I just…I'm not sure where to begin."

He leaned back against the couch cushions, crossed one leg over the other. After several moments of reflection, he began. "Writing had been a hobby of mine ever since I can remember. It all started with stories about my dad—not Chet, my biological father," he clarified. "I'd make up tales about meeting him in strange, fantastical ways. Generally they involved him being some sort of superhuman figure: a spy, an astronaut. Occasionally he had actual super powers…but anyway, I used those stories as a way to explain why he wasn't there; why we'd never met."

He glanced over to her and added a sidebar to his tale. "Please understand that I do think of Chet as my dad. I've never had a reason not to but-"

"No, I understand," she assured him. "It's natural to want to know where you came from."

He gave her a soft smile before continuing. "As I got older my stories branched out and became a little more grounded in reality. During my teens I really got into the horror genre and by college I'd pulled back into just plain old murder mysteries. Still a little macabre, but nothing openly gory.

"Anyway, I wrote and wrote and wrote more. The more I wrote, the better I got—or so I thought. I was majoring in journalism, writing for the school paper, but I started a novel as well. And it was terrible," he confessed with a laugh; she smiled at him. "But I wrote more short stories and rewrote them until I got them right; until I was proud of them. I never even considered publishing.

"Nick…Nick was the only one who knew. He was still in high school at the time, starting to look at colleges. We'd gone back and forth growing up—going from brothers, to friends, back to brothers and so on. I think the prospect of us no longer living in the same city really hit him and we became friends again so I let him read my piece de résistance— _Flowers for Your Grave_ ," he said, knowing she'd recognize the title. She did and smiled.

"He loved it—he told me I absolutely had to try and get it published, but I didn't believe him. I didn't believe in myself, I guess you could say," he confessed with a fractured smile. Then, he laughed nervously. "Sorry, this story is getting long."

"No please," she encouraged. "I don't mind it all."

"Well I'll cut to the chase. Unbeknownst to me, Nick took the story and sent it to a bunch of publishers thinking if I never heard back anything there would be no harm, but I did hear back. Nick and I both went to the publisher's meeting. I was…shell-shocked for lack of a better term, but Nick… Well, I'm sure you can imagine. Charismatic, charming Nick… Honestly, the whole thing was such a blur I don't know who came up with the idea: publishing with Nick as the author, but with my writing."

He shook his head and skimmed his chin with his hand. "I was young, I had college loans. I needed the money. I didn't think… I guess that's the bottom line: I didn't think."

Rick was quite for several minutes, reviewing the choices he'd made in his mind. If he knew then what he knew now, would he have gone through with it? He wanted to say no, but the allure of having his words in print—even if under someone else's name—was a tantalizing one so he couldn't say for sure.

"So, ah, we signed a contract and the book they told us would sell a few thousand copies sold ten. Went into a second printing. A third printing. And we were given another contract and another… Our parents were so proud. And it felt good writing—being published… Nick was on the morning talk shows and my books were reaching the top of the best sellers list..."

"And then?" Kate asked when a reflective expression crossed his face and he fell silent.

He looked at her and shrugged. "I woke up one morning, looked around and wondered what the hell I was doing. We were weeks from signing another two book deal and I just quit."

Kate took in a deep breath and nodded; now the pieces of the puzzle had fallen into place. "And that's when this whole fight between you and Nick started."

Rick nodded. "Well, there were other factors at work. It was a long time coming, to be honest. But yeah, that was definitely a significant part of it. I just couldn't do it any more—live the lie. It's not like I wanted thousands of fans lining outside my apartment ready to shower me with praise but having _no one_ know what I did? Having Nick just parade around and—" He cut himself off, shaking his head.

Kate leaned in and placed her hand on his arm. "I understand; it makes total sense. There's nothing wrong in wanting credit for something you worked very hard to create."

He let out a mirthless laugh. "Tell that to my family."

She gave his arm a squeeze, feeling sad that his family was angry with him for upsetting the balance of their lives when, really, the situation should not have been the way it was in the first place. In a weird way they had every right to be upset with her for almost exactly the same reasoning, though in a different situation. She considered Rick's tale for several moments before asking, "So just to be clear: Nick has never written any of the books."

A bark of laughter escaped Rick's lips. "Uh, no. Nick isn't awful at writing things—like reports. He got decent enough grades in school when he applied himself, but Nick couldn't make up a story if his life depended on it."

Kate nodded; she had sensed that from her limited interactions with him. "And…this all happened months ago, right? You haven't written a novel since then?"

He shook his head.

"Do you miss it?"

He nodded. "Sure, of course. Some days more than others. I was enjoying the sports reporting, too. Honestly. It was…different so it was fun, but it still felt off. Actually, everything felt off—until I met you."

Kate felt her cheeks heat, not having expected this comment. "Me?"

He nodded and cradled her hand with his. "This is probably going to sound crazy—well, maybe. I hope it doesn't but…I feel like we have this connection. It's like…I don't know if I can explain it. It's only been a few weeks—a crazy few weeks—but, I-"

"I know," she nodded, squeezing his hand in return. "I feel it too."

A smile on his face, he leaned in and closed his lips over hers. He kissed her. And kissed her again, parting his lips and drawing her in. When their lips broke, their noses brushed together and he opened his eyes to see hers: chocolate brown orbs with flecks of gold and emerald, no longer sad, but shining in his reflection.

Unable to suppress his desires, Rick brought his hands up to cradle her jaw and crashed into her lips again. She returned his passion for several moments before pulling back and saying his name hesitantly. He hummed in response, never bothering to open his eyes until she said, "Wait."

He smiled playfully at her and asked, "What?"

"Is this a good idea?"

His eyes popped open and he leaned back enough to take in her uncertain expression. He tapped the underside of her chin with his finger and promised, "This is the best idea I've had in months."

"Rick." She repeated his name, her tone warning that time.

Knowing he needed to stop teasing her, he dropped his hands to his lap. "Kate if you're not ready…"

She shook her head. "It's not that. It's just…"

Though she let her voice drift off, he knew what she was thinking. Everything she'd put him through, put his family through. The lies, the deception. It still weighed on her, but it needn't have. "Kate," he sighed, brushing some hair out of her face. "Stop worrying about that. What's done is done. Let's move past it—together."

She stared at him nervously for several more moments before his reassuring smile won her over. She nodded her head, smiled back, and let him take her hand and lead her into the bedroom.

* * *

 _A/N: Hi guys! I did see someone ask how many chapters were in this story and there are 24 + an epilogue, so we're getting towards the end, but don't worry I have plenty more fics for you :)_

 _Thanks for being patient for my lack of updating. I spent the week in Los Angeles and got to watch Castle film outside on the streets of LA and it was without a doubt one of the coolest things that has ever happened to me. (Before anyone asks - I only saw the boys; Stana was in Europe this week.) Such an awesome experience. However, I can't post about it until after the episode airs, which will be in late November so stay tuned._

 _Thanks for all your reviews - I really appreciate them._


	21. Chapter 21

**Chapter Twenty-One**

Waking up in someone else's bed was not something Kate Beckett was used to. The feel of someone's arm around her waist and the rhythmic sound of another person's breathing filling the room—these signs of physical closeness were odd enough, but the emotional aspect of her night with Rick was unexpectedly rattling to her.

The prior night after making love, Kate and Rick talked for over an hour before falling asleep. Mostly, their conversation surrounded the events of the prior four weeks and how miraculous it seemed that they'd managed to make it there, together, when for the most part the odds seemed stacked against them.

Rick began their conversation by confessing his relief that the most beautiful, interesting woman he'd found in years was not engaged to his sibling. He recounted his jealousy in the face of Nick's engagement to a woman he thought too good, too interesting for his brother's shallow tendencies. Recalling the night of their argument when Kate's mistruths were revealed, he apologized for the things he had said to her in his angry state and admitted that, while he was upset at first, his strong emotional reaction also stemmed from embarrassment over all the angst he felt over her supposed relationship with his brother.

After hearing this, Kate felt the need to apologize to him for what felt like the hundredth time, but he stopped her. He would hear no more apologies from her, he said. They were moving on together and putting everything that happened with Nick behind them.

When she awoke, Kate was amazed at how easily she slept in Rick's bed. Typically, she found it difficult to sleep the first few times next to a new person, particularly if they were not in her bed, but this was not the case with Rick. Though, in fairness, the prior night she did have a rather large emotional weight lifted off her shoulders, which certainly aided in her sleeping.

Since she awoke before him, she wasn't sure what her next move should be. Should she lay there and wait for him to awaken? Slipping out without a proper goodbye didn't seem right, especially without needing to be someplace specific. She didn't have to work that day nor did she have any other plans other than some household chores, and those could wait.

She didn't have to lay in silence too much longer before she felt him begin to stir. She stroked his arm gently, making sure he knew she was awake too, and smiled at him when he opened his eyes. They exchanged greetings before he yawned and pushed himself up into a sitting position, insisting he was going to make them breakfast. She moved to stop him, stating there was no need, but he refused to hear her protests.

An hour later, her belly full of bacon and eggs, Kate returned to her apartment to start her day. Deciding it would be best to start with the task she disliked the most, she grabbed her laptop and her checkbook aiming to do her weekly banking reconciliation. Only when she logged onto the bank's website and saw the bolded date posted at the top of the page did she realize.

January 18th; the anniversary of her mother's death.

With a heavy sigh, Kate leaned back against the chair and let her arms fall lip at her sides. Five years. Her mother had been gone for five years.

For several moments, Kate sat frozen in a state of shock. How had she not remembered? How had that even happened? How had she not recalled the moment that fundamentally defined her adulthood?

By all accounts, the prior week had certainly been more stressful and eventful than her life in recent times. It wasn't as though she sat home every night watching Netflix with no one to talk to. Yet this was her mother! Her mother's death!

Instantly, she was angry with herself, thinking that somehow by not going into a state of mourning several days before the event, she tarnished her mother's memory. Like she didn't miss her enough. That was never something Kate wanted to happen and her anger mixed with disappointment.

For the next several days, Kate reverted to her old self—the sullen, work-driven woman who remained stern and tough on the job and emotionally unavailable in her private life. As her work hours were scattered, before leaving his apartment that Sunday she revealed to Rick that they might not be able to see each other until the middle of the week and he was fine with that. Despite this, he texted her several times a day, and her responses were intermittent at best.

Wednesday morning, when she received a message from him saying: _Missing you. Dinner tonight?_ She felt as though she'd just been doused in cold water. What was she doing?

Exactly what she always did, she answered to herself. Keeping everyone—men especially—at arm's length. Further than, if possible. Keeping them away meant never getting hurt, but good god hadn't she been hurt enough in the last month? At her own hand, no less!

The more she thought about it the more she realized that not dwelling on her mother's death for the first time in half a decade was actually a good thing. Her mother would not have wanted her to live her life veiled in black, sitting home alone lighting candles and mourning for eternity. Her mother would have wanted her to live, find happiness and, incredibly, she had done just that with Rick.

Kate replied to his message by mid-day and agreed to dinner if he was still interested. His reply was almost instantaneous: _Always._

* * *

"I actually wanted to start by apologizing to you," Kate said at the beginning of their meal that night. When she noted the curious expression on his face, she continued. "I've been kind of distant the past few days. I'm assuming you noticed…"

Rick set down his wine glass and bobbed his head. He had noticed her infrequent and terse responses to his messages and feared she was having second thoughts about their relationship. If maybe they took things to the next level physically too soon. "I had."

"It's not you," she promised him right away. "It's…the anniversary of my mother's death; it kind of does crazy things to me."

Rick felt a healthy dosing of guilt seep into his gut. "Oh, Kate; I'm so sorry. This close to the holidays, too?"

"Yeah, we, ah…we hadn't even taken all the Christmas decorations down yet," she said with an ironic sort of smile.

He tilted his head to the side as he looked at her. "I can't even imagine what that would have been like for you—your family. If you need to take more time for yourself…"

"No, it's fine. It's good, actually. It's been five years and I'm glad to finally have found a good escape from all those memories."

He smiled gently at her. "I'm glad I could provide it. Can I…do you mind if I ask how she died?"

Kate clasped her hands together tightly and took a deep breath. She guessed he might ask since, like her, he was a curious person by nature. She'd considered not telling him, knowing that if she told him she would prefer not to talk about it he would have respected her choice, but that wasn't how she wanted to live. Secrets. Lies. After everything that happened with Nick, her new solemn vow was openness and honesty. Still, that didn't come easy to her. When she really thought about it, though, if she and Rick had made it through all of that and came out of it together, what better person in this world was there to confess her darkest moments to?

"She was murdered."

Rick's eyes grew wide and he stammered in shock. "M-murdered?"

Kate nodded. "Yes. It was a random mugging. That's what the police called it, anyway and-"

"They never caught the killer," Rick interjected breathily. His mind was spinning. Oh, her story—her story! It was all falling together in his mind. It made so much sense now!

Kate leaned back, surprised. "How did you…"

"Your story," he spoke his internal thoughts aloud. "You're not a lawyer; you're a cop. You're a cop because your mother's murder was unsolved…that's why you do what you do." When he looked up and discovered a mixture of alarm and befuddlement on her face, he felt a blush forming on his cheeks.

"Ah, sorry," he apologized. "I-I can see you don't want to talk about it and that's fine. I just get excited sometimes—figuring out the story behind the story is kind of my thing."

Though she was taken aback by how well he'd summarized her life with little prior knowledge, she also understood him more than he could ever know. "You mean the reason behind why people do what they do? That's why I started reading your books—that's why I like them so much, because I ask myself the same question every day."

Rick reached over and placed his hand gently atop hers. "Kate…"

She smiled softly and brushed a stray tear from the corner of her eye. Giving his hand a squeeze, she reached for her water glass and took a long sip. "Just to get everything on the table—because I'm sure you're wondering—my father died a little less than two years ago due to complications from his alcoholism; he didn't really take my mother's death well," she added lowering her gaze to her lap.

If possible, Rick's heart broke into more pieces. "Oh Kate…"

"I know, I know," she sighed. She'd seen the sympathetic looks before and wondered how genuine they were; with his, she didn't wonder. "I'd like to talk about this with you and someday I think I will be able to, but right now."

"It's okay," he promised her. "Whenever you're ready to talk, I'll be here to listen."

Kate leaned in, gave him a quick kiss and then rested her forehead against his, believing him one hundred percent.

* * *

 _A/N_ : _Originally, I was going to post my other Rom-Com fic next, but in light of all the Castle S8 stuff, I'm thinking maybe I want to post my new fluffy story first, and save the Rom-Com for the large winter break we're getting this year. Thought? Opinions?_

 _For more detail: the other rom-com is "Speak Now" based off Made of Honor_ _and the fluffy one has to do with AU Caskett meeting in college._

 _Edit: I was so distracted with the other A/N i forgot to say - yes i know i changed the date of Johanna's death, but I had to in order for the story timeline to work._


	22. Chapter 22

**Chapter Twenty-two**

On Friday, Kate returned to the Twelfth at the end of her shift determined to have a wonderful weekend with Rick. Even though she had seen him the prior morning before hurrying off to work, she found herself anxious to be in his presence once more—anxious to kiss him and cuddle up in his arms before falling asleep.

Aside from dinner that night they had plans to either see a movie or possibly even a play the following evening and Kate could not have been anticipating it more. Her old self would have been trepidations about diving headlong into a new relationship without dipping in one toe at a time to test the waters, but the new-and-improved Kate, leading her life with honesty and bound for happiness, was anxiously looking forward to it.

Before she could skip off to her weekend, Kate was stopped in the women's locker room by a colleague informing her that their C.O. wished to see her before she departed. Unsure of what he could possibly want Kate secured her locker once more and traveled up to the second floor where her superior waited.

The stout, balding, fifty-something man named Henderson beckoned her into his office and requested that she shut the door. A wave of nervousness crashing through her gut, Kate did as she asked. As she was a highly praised officer, she could hardly imagine that their meeting would be a disciplinary one, but Henderson wasn't known for closed-door meetings of any other variety.

Unable to suppress her curiosity, Kate asked, "Is…is something wrong sir?"

"Wrong?" he chuckled. "I highly doubt that. Why don't you go ahead and open this?"

Perplexed, she slipped the sealed envelope from his outstretched hand and flipped it over. It bore the NYPD logo in the top left hand corner and her name in the center, but no other indications of its origins. She turned it upside down and popped open the flap, sliding out the single sheet of paper within.

 _Oh god!_

Kate felt heat flood into her face the moment she realized that she held the test results for her detective's exam. How had she forgotten! Oh, right—she had taken the test just two days before Nick Rodgers' accident. It was ironic that the test hadn't even crossed her mind in the prior six weeks, especially given how much she fretted anticipating the results in the days leading up to the exam.

With a deep breath, she pulled the letter in to her lap and began to read. The first sentence revealed all she needed to know.

 _Congratulations on passing the New York Police Department's detective's exam!_

Kate let out a happy laugh and smiled up at her C.O. "I passed!" she proclaimed with a silly amount of glee.

"Passed? Beckett, you're the youngest female to pass that exam in NYPD history," the elder man told her with no small amount of pride.

Kate stammered at the unexpected development. "I—I…what?"

"The youngest female detective in NYPD history," he repeated. Then, getting down to business, he pulled from his drawer a new shield for her and placed it on her side of his desk. "You've had your eye on homicide, right? Captain Roy Montgomery would like to meet with you eight a.m. Monday; he's extremely interested in finding a place for you on his team."

"I—I…thank you! Thank you, sir!" she proclaimed, far too stunned to speak anymore.

She was so stunned, in fact, when the C.O. dismissed her she forgot to take her detective's shield and scurried back to get it after he reminded her. By the time she reached the women's locker room, her hands were trembling.

Detective. She was a detective. All her hard work had paid off. She had done it! And she knew exactly who she wanted to share the joyous news with first.

* * *

"Oh my god, Rick, you're never going to-" Kate stopped abruptly when she stepped into the writer's apartment and found not a six-foot-one blue-eyed male before her, but a blonde female of slim build and similar height. "O-oh…I'm sorry. Is this a bad time?" she asked, glancing at the stern-faced writer who stood at the edge of the hall. He had told her to come directly over after work so she hadn't texted to confirm their plans. Perhaps that had been a mistake.

"No, no; its fine. Gina was just leaving anyway," he said, striding forward to make the introductions. "Kate, this is Gina Cowell, my publisher; Gina—my girlfriend Kate Beckett."

As the combination of her own news plus Gina's presence in Rick's apartment was already too much for her brain to process, Kate failed to take note of the first time Rick referred to her as his girlfriend. It was all she could do to extend her hand and greet the woman politely instead of as a dumb fool.

"Kate, it's a pleasure." Gina spoke in a cool tone, extending her hand slowly. After they shook, Kate's jacket shifted when she drew her hand back and Gina observed the shield clipped to the belt of her jeans. The name clicked in her mind. "Ah…you're the woman who saved Nick, aren't you?"

"I—yes," Kate confirmed.

Gina turned and shot the writer an intrigued look before sashaying out of the apartment. "Have a good night you two. And think about my offer, Ricky!"

After the blonde left, Kate looked at the still-tense writer and asked, "Is everything okay?"

"Wha—ah, yeah. Yes, everything is fine. Gina and I were just talking business," he explained. He turned to Kate and found her looking at him expectantly. For a moment he wasn't sure why, but then it hit him like a brick to the skull—what was he doing?

Not forty-eight hours earlier she confided in him one of the darkest moments in her life—an event that by her own admission she rarely spoke of. She was being honest and open in their relationship and he needed to pay her the same courtesy.

"Ah sorry…I'm not trying to keep it from you, honest. It's just complicated," he sighed, skimming his hand over the top of his head and ruffling his hair.

"Let me guess," she began with a wry smile. "It involves Nick."

He nodded and led the way into the kitchen. "Gina came over here to ask me to reconsider signing another contract to write books as Nick Rodgers. I, of course, politely declined and she went on to explain to me the real reason that she and Nick had a—what she described as—massive fight a few days before Christmas."

Though Kate was not one to thrive off the gossip of other people's personal lives, her curiosity was certainly piqued. "Okay?"

"Evidently, Nick told Gina he was absolutely willing to continue the Nick Rodgers mysteries—by writing them himself."

Kate's brow wrinkled at this. "Didn't you say Nick wasn't much of a storyteller?"

"Yeah, and that's an understatement," Rick continued. "Gina, of course, knows this and when she politely told him that wasn't an option Black Pawn was interested in pursuing, he got mad, yelled at her for not having faith in him and a breakup ensued."

Kate nodded, understanding the scenario better. "But they want you to keep writing."

He wobbled his head. "Yes and no. More so, I believe they're trying to save face and wondering what's going to happen to them if their latest cash cow just vanishes into nothingness, never to be heard from again."

Kate considered this a moment. "Can I ask something that might sound a little crazy?"

He smiled. "Of course."

"Well…why don't you keep writing—as you. Under your name, I mean." To her, it seemed the most logical solution.

He nodded his head. "Actually, we've kind of had that discussion. Gina informed me that there's no way Black Pawn would publish books by Nick Rodgers and Rick Rodgers; the names are too similar."

Kate nodded, seeing this point as the names were only different by one letter.

"Besides—Rick Rodgers has no notoriety; he can't be marketed the same way as Nick Rodgers could and he wouldn't make them near as much money."

She pursed her lips together and twisted them to the side. "It's weird when you talk about yourself in the third person."

He laughed. "Sorry." Then, switching gears, he said, "Anyway, enough about that. How was your day?"

"Oh ah…I made detective," she said, plucking the badge off her hip and placing it on the countertop.

Rick did a double-take looking at the shield. "You what!? Oh my god—why didn't you tell me before! Kate! That's amazing!" He proclaimed, pulling her into a bone-crushing hug.

She chuckled and hugged him back. "Well you were a little distracted—rightfully so."

"Well now I'm not," He promised, pulling back and looking her square in the eye. "I'm one hundred percent focused on you. Kate! This is wonderful. I didn't even know you'd taken the exam—it is an exam, right?"

She confirmed with a nod. "Yes, and actually I kind of forgot about it too; I took the test two days before Nick's accident."

"Oh shit," he laughed. "Yeah, that was a distraction alright…"

She smiled slyly at him. "There's actually a little more, too. I…I'm actually the youngest female detective in the history of the NYPD."

Rick's eyes nearly popped from his skull. "Are you serious!?" he squealed. When she nodded, her pulled her close again and began peppering her face with kisses until she laughed and squirmed from his embrace. "I'm sorry I'm just excited! And thrilled! And proud—really proud. Kate, this is fantastic. And you know what? Your parents would be really proud of you too."

Her heart clutched in her chest and she dropped her gaze towards one of the buttons on his shirt. She hadn't thought about them, but Rick was absolutely right. Her mother never knew of her plans to be a cop, Kate knew she was doing right by her by pursuing a career in law enforcement. Her father lived long enough to see her graduate the academy and receive several accommodations. Before he passed, he told her he was proud of everything she'd accomplished.

"Thanks," she told him softly. Then, she leaned in and gave him a sweet kiss.

When she pulled back, he grinned at her. "We need to celebrate. I'm sure I can get us a table at a fantastic restaurant somewhere in this city."

He was about to reach for his cell phone when she stopped him, closing her hand around his. "That's really sweet, Rick, but you don't need to. I'd rather just stay in; we can have a fancy dinner another time."

"Are you sure?"

"Positive." She nodded and kissed him again.

Before she could slip away, he held her tighter and deepened their kiss. Finally pulling back, he said in a deep tone, "Then I guess we'll just have to find another way to celebrate tonight."

She hummed and brushed their noses together. "Sounds like you already have some ideas."

"Why yes, _detective_ , I do," Rick said, loving that he could feel her body tremble when he said the word "detective."

"You didn't start dinner yet, did you?" Kate asked breathily, a few ideas of her own popping into her mind.

"Nope."

"Good." With that, she closed her mouth over his and pulled him towards the bedroom.

* * *

 _A/N: Unsurprisingly, you guys voted almost unanimously for the fluffy fic next, so the fluffy fic you shall get. It's called **Remember the Night** and it will begin 2 weeks from today - once this story is over. Thanks for your input! _


	23. Chapter 23

**Chapter Twenty-three**

"Kate, honey," Rick chuckled as they stepped off the elevator in his parent's apartment building. Her expression had morphed from nervousness and uncertainty to one that made it seem as though he was leading her to the executioner's chamber during the duration of their ascent. He grabbed her hand and squeezed it tight. "It's going to be fine."

"Says the person they don't view as a pathological liar," she muttered in response.

Rick stopped walking and stood blocking his girlfriend's path. They had this conversation previously, but if they needed to go through it again, he was willing. "Kate, I told you—they're fine with it. They even thought it was a little bit funny." Though Kate still remained skeptical she allowed him to lead her down the hall towards the Palaburn-Rodgers residence.

In truth, the month since their first official date had been one of the happiest of her life. She loved having Rick as her boyfriend, exchanging texts with him during the day, and having him as a built-in support system. She had only been on the job ten days as a homicide detective, and while it was something she'd wanted for nearly half a decade, the transition was a difficult one.

She had never spent hours on end staring at gory, disfigured human remains. She'd never looked into the eyes of a victim's family and told them their loved one would never be coming home. She'd never stood in a morgue and watched a coroner pull the brain out of a victim's skull. All these new experiences took more of an emotional toll on her than she realized, and she was glad to have Rick by her side.

When they reached the right door, Rick knocked swiftly and shot his companion a reassuring smile. She attempted to smile back, though her actions were thwarted by a fresh onslaught of terror roiling her gut. It would be fine, she told herself. Totally fine. The more time she said it, it had to be true, right?

"Richard, darling, come in, come in!" Martha ushered them both into her home with her usual flair. "And Kate, dear, how have you been? Richard told us that you'd been made a detective—congratulations!"

"Oh-oh thank you," Kate stammered. Having expected a bit of coldness from them, praise was certainly surprising. When Chet stepped into the hall, Kate exchanged looks with them both before repeating her well-rehearsed apology. "Martha, Chet, I just wanted to let you both know how sorry I am. I don't even know how to begin to apologize to all of you but-"

"Oh darling you needn't worry about that," Martha assured her, stepping forward and pulling her into a warm hug. "You saved Nicholas's life and I've never seen Richard happier—how could we be upset with you for that?"

"Really?" she asked, gazing at the boys' father.

Chet bobbed his head. "Of course; it's water under the bridge."

Kate fought the urge to tear up as relief flooded her body. They didn't hate her! Everything was going to be ok. Then, when she looked at Rick and spotted his "See, I told you!" expression she couldn't help but laugh.

The four of them walked into the dining room, where Kate discovered the final two members of the Palaburn-Rodgers clan: Nick and Lanie. While she suspected Lanie might be at their meal, Kate was utterly surprised to see Nick. She knew that he and Rick had a phone conversation the prior week, but she was under the impression it had not gone well. Still, it appeared they were burying the hatchet at least for the sake of their family dinner.

"I'd like to propose a toast," Chet said, raising his beer bottle once they were all seated. Once the other guests had done the same, he continued. "To all of us here together—and healthy," he added with a pointed look towards his son.

Nick laughed, "Thanks Dad."

Once they began to eat, Kate found herself peppered with questions from each of the family members asking how she became a detective and how her role differed now in the homicide division. As she loved her job, she didn't mind talking about it though some of her responses were creative, as corpses were not typically great dinner conversation.

During their meal, Rick observed Kate laughing and chatting with his family with great pride. Before they arrived, he fully understood her trepidations about being around his family considering everything that happened, but he was thrilled they were unfounded. If anyone deserved happiness, it was her.

The prior four weeks with her had been a dream. Spending time with her, eating meals together and falling asleep beside her were even better than he imagined they would be. Two months earlier he had never met her, but then, in that moment, he couldn't imagine life without her.

"Well Kate, it sounds like you have quite a career ahead of you," Martha smiled at the conclusion of her explanation of the NYPD hierarchy.

Kate smiled softly. "I hope so."

"Now," Martha continued, "if only my sons-"

"Mother," Richard cut her off with a forced smile. "Remember, we agreed: no business talk over dinner."

While Martha threw her hands up in exasperation, Nick, who up to that point had been relatively silent, said, "Well, maybe we should talk about it. I mean, we're even now, right Ricky?"

Rick blinked at his sibling. "Excuse me?"

Nick set down his fork and folded his hands together. "You know…I went after Gina; you went after Kate. We're even."

Fury seared in Rick's chest and he momentarily forgot he was at a dinner table full of his family. "Are you fucking kidding me?" he snapped.

"Richard! Language!" his mother scolded, but Rick took no notice as he continued to berate his brother.

"How can you even—you're just so—you've got your head so far up your own ass-"

"Me! Me!?" Nick retorted. "I'm sorry—who is the one that completely bailed on our partnership?"

"Partnership!?" Rick boomed. "Partnership!? Oh, that's rich. Partnership…"

"It was a partnership!" Nick insisted. "You agreed-"

"Because you forced my hand! Thank god I finally came to my senses…" With that, Rick pushed himself up from the table, aiming to walk away, but Nick stood as well and continued his verbal assault.

"Except you didn't. You went completely insane! We had a good thing Rick—a great thing! Didn't you like getting a nice paycheck instead of whatever meager wages they give out for articles about who made three home runs during the latest little league game?"

His fists clenched at his sides and jaw tense, Rick approached his brother, "Well if you'd stop crying about the fact that you might have to give up one of your Ferraris for one second!"

Nick threw his hands up. "All this because of Gina."

For a moment, Rick was too shocked to respond. Is that what Nick really thought? If so, he was a complete moron!

"Jesus, Rick if I knew you'd ruin this whole thing I wouldn't have gone after her—she wasn't even that good of a lay…"

"You son of a bitch," Rick spat at his sibling. Though his intimate relationship with Gina was long over, he still believed there was no need for his brother to trivialize her existence in such a way.

Flustered by the scene unfolding, Martha turned to her husband. "Chet—do something."

Chet rose from his seat, but did not step away from the table. "That's enough—both of you."

"C'mon Rick," Nick began, his tone turning sweet. "Let's move past this. You took Kate from me—that's what this was about, right? We're even now."

"You narcissistic moron—she was never yours!"

Nick smirked, unfazed by the insult. "But you didn't know that when you went after her, did you?"

"You-"

"Richard stop! Right now!" Chet hollered, seeing the elder brother step menacingly towards the younger. "You too, Nicholas. Enough! If you two want to pummel each other you'll do it outside this apartment. Go. Right now." Chet pointed towards the door and, for emphasis, walked around behind them in an attempt to shoo them in the right direction.

Rick observed the silent women at the table, dropped his chin to his chest and muttered, "I'm sorry, Kate," before following his brother out the door.

Until they heard the apartment door slam and for thirty seconds after, no one in the room moved or made a sound. Finally, unable to tolerate the crushing feeling in her chest any longer, Kate pushed herself away from the table, shaking her head. "I'm sorry; this is all my fault."

"Oh no, no not at all." Lanie promised.

Martha agreed with a nod. "That fight was a long time coming; it had nothing to do with you. It actually…well I imagine you'd a bit confused."

Kate shook her head. "No, no I know—I know about the books; that Rick is the real writer."

Martha nodded and leaned back in her chair. "He's told you, then?"

"No, I figured it out."

Chet chuckled as he took his seat at the table once more. "Guess we know why she made detective."

Kate gazed up at the still-shaken family members and made to stand. "I…I should go."

Martha reached out her hand and grabbed Kate's arm before she could escape. "No, please stay. Finish your meal—plus we have Lanie's cake to cut." At the younger woman's uncertain expression, Martha continued, "Richard needs some time to cool off anyway."

Though not confident in her decision to do so, Kate nodded slowly and sat back down. She scooted her chair into the table and looked down at her half-eaten plate of food; suddenly, she wasn't very hungry anymore.


	24. Chapter 24

**Chapter Twenty-four**

The brisk walk home through the chilled winter air did wonders for calming the rage searing through every cell in Rick's body. Nothing, however, was as sobering as opening his apartment door an hour later to find his timid looking girlfriend with eyes rimmed in red. The broken look on her face sent a dagger straight through his heart; he was a moron.

"Hi."

"Hi."

"I brought you a slice of cake," Kate said, passing over the plastic-covered paper plate. "Lanie said red velvet was your favorite."

He bobbed his head as he took the plate and closed the door behind her. "Thanks, I'll eat it later." He led the way to the kitchen where he deposited the treat on the counter before turning to face her. She was draping her coat over the back of one of the nearby chairs as he continued. "I guess I owe you a pretty hefty apology…and an explanation."

Kate shook her head. "If it's about what's going on between you and Nick, then-"

"But I want to. Please sit." He gestured towards the couch and only continued once they were both seated. "First, I want to make it clear to you that our relationship has nothing to do with Nick or Gina."

She reached out and placed her hand on his arm. "I didn't think that." Though, she added internally, it certainly was nice to have the confirmation.

He placed his hand atop hers. "My feelings for you have absolutely nothing to do with any of that. And I've moved on from my feelings from Gina, I promise you that. I won't, however, deny the fact that what happened between Nick and Gina was the catalyst for me stopping writing the books for him. It wasn't the only reason—as I'd mentioned to you before I'd had some doubts and I was thinking about it, but as soon as I found out about them…" His voice drifted off and his gut churned when he thought back to the exact moment it all hit the fan, so to speak.

"It was the final straw and, even then, it wasn't so much that they were together as they purposely hid it from me for several months."

Kate let his words process for a moment before asking, "So what happened?"

"I told them I was done; that I'd never write another novel for Nick Rodgers. They didn't believe me at first—thought I was just angry, blowing off steam, but I'd come to my senses. When they realized I was serious, they tried various schemes…they offered more money, a more lenient schedule of due dates but…I just couldn't do it anymore." He shook his head and turned away from her momentarily. The worst part was despite being confident that he made the right decision, he still felt guilty over effectively putting his brother out of a job. It was a terrible situation, doomed from the start, but still it had to be done.

"Nick took it the hardest—obviously. When the books really took off, he'd dropped out of college to go on book tours, make appearances…spend his portion of the money." Rick shook his head and picked at a loose string on the seam of his jeans.

"This has been his life for almost ten years so he was in crisis mode. He went crying to our parents, told them his mean old brother was trying to shaft him, completely leaving out the part about Gina…and well, anyway, they—Chet especially—blamed me. As I was an adult and this issue was between Nick and I didn't tell them much more about it because I didn't think they needed to be dragged into this mess when it was unnecessary."

Kate leaned back against the couch cushions. Well, that tale certainly did shine a light on things, didn't it? Everything that happened starting with that day in the hospital when Lanie encouraged her to maintain the ruse made so much more sense. "That's why Lanie wanted me around for Christmas…she had been anticipating a fight like that."

He let out a breathy laugh. "Well, a variation of that, but yes. Lanie really gets upset by family conflict and she always tries to fix it."

"Do you have a lot of fights like that?"

He laughed again. "No that was by far the worst. Most were minor and when Nick and I were younger."

For several more moments he was silent, reflecting on thirty years of life with his younger brother. Turning to her, he continued his tale. "See, ah, Nick's always been the golden child in my parent's eyes. This is going to make me sound bitter and resentful and I'm not really, not anymore, but it doesn't make it less true.

"Nick was always…untouchable, or so it seemed. I mean, I kind of got it with Chet. Nick was _his_ son. Chet never said anything that made me think that and I truly don't harbor any ill-will towards the man. Hell, I even understand it. Biology wins out, right?" A mirthless laugh escaped his lips. "That's just the vibe I got from him…even from Mother at times. If I got a B+ on a test, it was always, 'Good job, but maybe next time you could go for that A.' If Nick got a C+ he was praised for doing the best he could when really he was just dicking around instead of studying.

"So being a stupid teenager what did I do? Act out, tried to get attention. It was fairly minor stuff—pulling pranks, getting detention for disrupting a class… but my parents were extremely disappointed. That's when I really started using writing as an escape."

Rick leaned back against the couch and shifted so he faced Kate more head-on. "Things were better when I was at school because I was in my own space. Also, around that time, when he was seventeen, Nick was busted for under aged drinking and that really set a ripple through all of us. Fortunately, it did set him straight for a little while and he became less of an asshole, more of a brother. Sorry," He shook his head. "I…I don't even know if this is making any sense. I guess what I'm trying to say is that there's always been a bit of underlying tension between Nick and I. Sometimes it's better than others, but this whole writing thing has been quite a mine field."

Kate nodded. As an only child, she had difficulty conceptualizing the sibling animosity, but she gleaned from seeing his interactions and from stories she'd heard from friends growing up that it could be quite difficult. Still, in the end, the agreement they had seemed to have made one of his dreams come true. "But you were able to write novels, publish and do what you love, right?"

His expression brightened. "Oh absolutely. Don't get me wrong—I don't regret it. I've been very fortunate. I just…can't."

"Don't you miss it? I mean, the way you write with such passion, creating such vivid stories. It's obvious you loved it." She loved them too, and the thought of never reading another one of his mysteries made her very sad.

"I did. I really did. I've enjoyed the sports writing though, too, because it's been different. But…you're right, not as much as writing novels. Truthfully in the past six months I haven't really been inspired to write anything…at least, not until the prior four weeks." He smiled up at her.

Kate sat up a bit straighter. "Oh really? Did you find some new inspiration?"

"Yes," he said. Then without letting a second go by he added, "You."

At this unexpected comment, she laughed, "Me?!"

He scooted closer to her so he could stroke his thumb over one of his cheeks. "Of course you."

Completely rattled, Kate began stammering, "Wha—I mean—what? How? What?"

This reaction only made Rick's glee swell and his grin stretched wider across his face. "Oh my god do you get adorable when you're flustered."

"Rick," she said, her tone laugh laughing, half warning.

"Of course you inspire me; you're extraordinary," he explained with no small amount of reverence.

Unable to stop the blush in her cheeks from growing, Kate turned away from the writer momentarily. When she looked back, his dopey expression remained and she couldn't stop a chuckle from escaping her lips. "Did you really start writing again?"

"I'm dabbling. Getting some ideas out here and there. Though, honestly, I'm thinking a series about a female NYPD detective could be fantastic…although I'd never get it published…"

"Why not?" she countered. He gave her a pointed look, but she continued, "No, I know, you said…you'd be starting from the bottom again, but why not?"

Unsure of which of the million reasons to give her, he started with the simplest. "Nick Rodgers, Rick Rodgers – remember?"

She shrugged. "So use a pen name. Rick…I dunno—a different last name. I know it's not the same as being published under _your_ name, but…it's an idea right?"

He saw her excitement and appreciated it. Still, after the emotional rollercoaster that was his career over the prior few months, he wished to remain realistic and reserved rather than prematurely excited and ultimately disappointed. "Yeah, maybe."

Kate scooted closer to him and pressed her shoulder up against his. "I just want you to do what you love because you deserve to be happy."

He nodded in agreement. "I am happy. With you."

A smile blossomed on her face. Weeks ago, such happiness would have been inconceivable to her; as foreign a goal as flapping her arms like wings and flying to the moon. Now, sitting on the couch with her boyfriend, it was difficult for her to imagine not being that happy every single day. "Me too."

* * *

 _A/N: Thank you guys so much for reading and reviewing - I really appreciate it! The epilogue for this story will be up on Wednesday and then the new fluffy story, Remember the Night, will be posted Saturday._

 _Also, tomorrow I'm posting an M-rated one-shot just 'cause :)_


	25. Epilogue

**Epilogue**

"Oh you know what? I think we missed this one." Lanie reached deep under the over-decorated spruce and procured a wrapped package with a grunt. The red and gold wrapped box was large enough that she needed two hands to lift it and pull it to her lap. Checking the card affixed with a glittering gold ribbon, she smiled. "It's for you, Kate."

"Me?" Kate's head snapped towards the present-holding woman. She slid from her boyfriend's arms and took the present, thinking Lanie had been mistaken. However, upon inspection of the tag, the recipient was plain: _To Kate; From Santa_.

Her eyebrow arching skeptically, she glanced at her companion. "Rick?"

"Don't look at me." He laughed and gestured towards the box with the coffee mug he held. "Look how tight those corners are. And that bow? You know I don't wrap like that."

Kate could not disagree with this. The two boxes he'd presented her with that Christmas morning had more tape on them than wrapping paper. He explained this was necessary due to the fact that he kept ripping the paper trying to secure it around the box. As he'd used paper towels with perforated sections designed for separation, this made sense. (Though, why he'd used paper towels as wrapping paper remained a mystery; Kate merely chalked it up to one of the many quirky things her boyfriend did.)

The box resting in her lap, Kate lifted her gaze to observe the rest of the Palaburn-Rogers clan. As they all wore gentle smiles, the hair on the back of Kate's neck prickled. Why did she have the feeling they all knew something she didn't?

"Go ahead, Darling; open it." Martha encouraged.

Chewing on her bottom lip, Kate tugged at the ends of the bow to loosen them. Then, she slid her fingers beneath the overlapped portions of the wrapping paper to slide it off the box. The box itself was easy enough to open, but inside she only found bubble wrap—or so it initially seemed. She unearthed layer after layer of clear packing until, in the box's bottom corner, she discovered a two inch square blue velvet box. Kate's heart rate immediately sped as such a container could only mean one thing.

Certain her boyfriend was not above using a jewelry box as a red herring for another, less exciting gift, Kate scooped the box out, popped it open and gasped at the sight of the princess cut solitary diamond engagement ring inside. Her eyes wide, she turned to Rick who gazed at her with such admiration, her heart felt as though it would explode right out of her chest. "Oh my god."

"Kate," he began, sliding closer to her. He took the box from her limp hands and plucked the ring from its resting spot.

"Oh my god," she repeated. They hadn't talked about this! What was he doing? They hadn't made plans or discussed anything. Sure, they were happy; they were in love, but this—this!

"I don't know what higher power brought you into our lives a year ago, but I'm so glad it did because the past year has been the best of my life and I just want it to keep getting better. I love you, Katherine Beckett. Will you marry me?"

"Yes, yes of course!" The words escaped her mouth without her brain even registering that they did. A laugh of pure joy escaped Rick's face as he slid the ring onto her left hand. This action was met by cheers and applause from the surrounding family. The sudden noise startled Kate; she had forgotten there was anyone else in the room.

"Oh god, are you serious?" she sniffed as she rubbed her cheeks with trembling fingers.

"Of course I'm serious!" he beamed at her. Then, he pulled her in for a quick kiss and tight hug before whispering. "Love you," into her ear.

Still overwhelmed, Kate couldn't respond expect to hug him back even tighter; she loved him more than she ever dreamed possible.

After being congratulated by each of the family members, Kate assisted in the wrapping paper clean up duties, continually being distracted by the glimmer emanating from her left hand. As she passed over a full bag of garbage, Nick proclaimed, "Well it's about time."

His brother eyed him curiously. "What does that mean?"

Nick gestured towards the two of them. "This should have happened months ago—I was going to steal her back if you didn't propose soon."

"Steal back implies you had her to begin with," Rick said before folding his arms over his chest, though the move was mostly in jest. Thought it took the better part of six months, the brothers came to a truce with their differences. Rick struck his own deal with Black Pawn after the publisher fawned over his concept for a sexy, street-smart NYPD detective. The book was nearly complete and scheduled to be published the following year—once he settled on a pen name that was; he was debating several options. Nick, on the other hand, turned to blogging—under a pen name of his own. As part of their truce, the brothers agreed it was best if "Nick Rodgers" name never appeared in print again.

"I did have her."

"Yeah, while you were sleeping because it would have been in your dreams," Rick retorted.

"Boys," their mother said warningly.

Nick shrugged. "It's cool. I don't want to be married anyway—can't be tied down, you know."

"Well," Rick said, smiling at his future wife, "I can't wait to be tied down."

She looped her arms around his waist and kissed him. "Me neither."

* * *

 _A/N: Thank you all so much for all your lovely reviews for this story. I hope you enjoyed this mash-up of Castle and one of my favorite movies as much as I did._

 _Up next: Remember the Night - a fluffy Rick & Kate met in college AU. It's short and sweet with 12 chapters, but I think that's what everyone needs right now. See you saturday and thanks again!_


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